All We Have to Fear
by GaDS2000
Summary: When the class hosts a haunted house to raise money for a field trip Jimmy adds a special invention of his own to add some real thrills...an invention that works all too well.
1. Chapter 1 Show Me the Money!

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Chapter 1:

"Settle down, settle down, cla-a-a-as," Miss Fowl clucked.The usual Friday morning buzz from the children in her classroom faded and she went on. "I have an anno o o uncement to make. Due to an unfortunate shortfall in our budget, our planned trip to the planetarium on Tuesday will have to be – bra-a-awk – cancelled." She sighed. "Again."

"Gas planets!" 11-year-old genius Jimmy Neutron grumbled to no one in particular. "That's like the millionth time in a row now. We'll never have that planetarium field trip!"

Cindy Vortex, the pretty blonde who sat to the left of him, overheard his complaining and frowned. "Oh, stop griping, already" she said. "You're not missing out on anything. At least you have a telescope at home."

"Yeah, and a rocket ship," added Jimmy's best friend, Carl Wheezer, who sat to Jimmy's right.

"And I think he's launched two or three deep space probes…this month," continued Sheen Estevez, Jimmy's other friend who sat behind Carl.

"Okay, okay!" Jimmy broke in. "So I can experience the wonders of the universe. That's not the point. Everyone in Lindbergh Elementary should have the right to experience the marvels of science firsthand. If they don't have the chance to satisfy their natural scientific curiosity, they may become totally maladjusted social outcasts like…like…"

"Like you?" Libby Folfax sniped from the other side of Cindy. Most of the students sitting nearby laughed at this.

"Laugh if you want," retorted Jimmy, who was used to being mocked and scoffed at by most of the other students. "But this is totally unacceptable. Miss Fowl!" he called out, raising his hand.

Winnifred Fowl heaved a heavy sigh but despite past experiences with Jimmy was too good a teacher to ignore any student in her class. "Yes, Jimmy?"

"Just how much money would we need for this field trip?"

"Well, the admission is 7.50 per student, and the cost for the bus there is another 250.00. The total for this class would be more than 400.00. And unfo-o-ortunately the school doesn't have it."  
Jimmy's stood up and smacked his fist into his open palm. "Then we'll get it."

"How Jimmy?" asked Carl Wheezer, who sat to Jimmy's right.

"Yeah, how?" echoed Jimmy's other friend Sheen Estevez, who sat behind Carl.

Jimmy lowered his head, put his hands behind his back, and began to pace back and forth. "Well, the three time-honored methods of raising money for a school function are selling some sort of merchandise, providing some sort of service, or hosting some type of event."

"Well, the first idea is out," said Libby. "We don't have anything to sell or any money to buy something and sell for a profit."

Sheen looked sad and announced in a glum tone, "Well, if it's for a good cause, I suppose I could donate my old bubble gum collection."

Libby gave Sheen a strange look. "Don't you mean your old bubble gum _card_ collection?"

Sheen simply looked puzzled and shook his head. "No."

"Okay," said Jimmy. "If we don't have anything to sell, I guess we have to consider the second option of providing some service, like washing cars."

Cindy laughed at that. "When it rains twice a week at this time of year? Fat chance of that."

"Well, there are other things we could do," Jimmy replied. "We could have a babysitting center."

"Uh-uh, no way," countered Libby. "Anytime there's watching little kids involved it's the girls who end up doing all the work. Especially if there are diapers to be changed."

The other girls in the classroom grimaced and nodded at Libby's comments and Jimmy decided to make a strategic retreat. "Okay, scratch that idea. I guess that leaves hosting some kind of event."

Sheen asked the obvious question. "Like what?"

In response to this Carl leapt to his feet, sure that he had the answer. "Hey, kids!" he yelled enthusiastically. "Let's put on a show!"

"I don't think so," replied Cindy, shaking her head.

Carl looked crestfallen. "Why not?" he asked.

"I'll give you three reasons." Cindy began ticking off her fingers. "One, we don't have the time. Two, we don't have the talent – well, most of us don't. And three, this isn't some 1930's black-and-white movie."

"Well, what else is there?" Sheen demanded.

"How about a carnival?" suggested Britney.

Jimmy shook his head. "We don't have anything to set up a carnival."

Miss Fowl cleared her throat. "Well…" she began hesitantly. She had been listening patiently and waiting for a chance to start her lessons but felt that she should try to encourage the students' initiative. The entire class looked at her and she paused before going on. "We do have all the school's sets and pro o ops for the annual activities that we could use."

"What a minute," Butch said. "The only school activities that we have are the Hallowe'en festival and the Christmas show."

"You mean the Autumn Cavalcade and Winter Holidays Celebration," Miss Fowl corrected.

"Thank you. Miss Fowl," Yentl Marmelstein piped up.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," said Butch. "As far as I'm concerned if it has pumpkins it's Hallowe'en and if it has reindeer it's Christmas."

"Now, Bu-u-utch," Miss Fowl began. "You should really be more sensitive about…"

Jimmy had been thinking and snapped his fingers. "That's it!" he exclaimed.

Miss Fowl blinked. "What's that, Jimmy?"

Jimmy began pacing back and forth again in excitement. "It's only been a few months since Christmas, so that's out. But it's been a while since Hallowe'en. We can set something up with the stuff from that!"

Cindy looked dubious, as did most of the rest of the class. "Hallowe'en in spring?" she asked.  
"Autumn Cavalcade!" squawked Miss Fowl.

Jimmy shook his head. "No, not the whole holiday. We'll set up a haunted house attraction. There are plenty of scary props to use. And we can always come up with more to make it even more interesting."

Nick Dean expressed the doubts the other students were feeling. "I don't know, Neutron. Why would anyone want to go to a haunted house exhibit at this time of year? I mean, Easter is just around the corner. I don't know that fluffy bunnies and colored eggs really go with scary."

Carl cringed. "They do for me," he whispered hoarsely.

Jimmy stuck to his guns. "Scientific studies have clearly shown that people like being scared."

"I don't," whimpered Carl.

Jimmy corrected himself. "Most people. That's why they love to see horror movies and listen to ghost stories at camp and go on amusement park thrill rides. The _Bat Outta Heck_ ride at Retroland is the scariest there and it always has the longest lines."

Nick looked unusually thoughtful and began nodding. "Maybe you have something there Neutron."

"I'm sure of it," Jimmy insisted confidently. "Tomorrow morning we can all get together, put the house up, and open it for the weekend. At two dollars apiece I'm sure we can get enough people to have all the money we need in time for the field trip on Tuesday."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Nick objected. "I don't mind going along with the haunted house idea, but working on Saturday is definitely not part of my personal agenda. Why should I have to give up my prime hanging time to put the thing up?"

"Yeah, Jimmy," agreed Sheen. "I mean, Saturday morning only comes once a week."

The rest of the class appeared to be in agreement with this sentiment and Jimmy strove to change their minds and attitudes. "Because that's the only way we can all go to the planetarium and witness firsthand the celestial glories of the vast and unexplored cosmos about us."

The class simply stared at him. "And?" Sheen finally asked.

Jimmy had hoped to reach the more noble aspects of his classmates' natures but saw that more earthy measures were needed. "And it will get us out of school for a day," was Jimmy's despondent reply.

This appealed to Nick's sensibilities. "Sounds good to me," he admitted. "Okay, I'm in."

With Nick committed to the project the other students readily followed, especially with Cindy's whole-hearted support. "Okay, people!" she called out as she leapt to her feet. "You heard the man! Tomorrow morning at 8:00 AM we put up a haunted house to end all haunted houses!" As the other students clapped and cheered in anticipation of the event Cindy resumed her seat. "This idea of yours had better work, Neutron," she told Jimmy quietly, "or once I kill you there really will be a ghost haunting these halls."

"No problems," Jimmy replied. He had been thinking about the haunted house idea and had thought of a way to ensure that the activity was a resounding success. The impish smile he gave Cindy seemed almost devilish. "I guarantee that this will be something that no one will ever forget."

As he turned away again Cindy felt vaguely uncomfortable, as though some premonition of doom had settled over her. _What is he hatching in that big brain of his now?_ she wondered. _And why do I suddenly have a bad feeling about this?_

Sheen seemed the most excited by the idea of a haunted house. "This is going to be great!" he chortled in glee. "I can hardly wait for Saturday! Even more than usual, I might add."

"I'm very happy for you," Miss Fowl told him with a polite smile. "But since it's still Friday…"

"Yes?" asked Sheen, smiling back.

He voice suddenly hardened and became all business. "Why don't we actually have class now?"

End of Chapter 1

Page 4 of 4


	2. Chapter 2 Building Up and Tearing Down

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Chapter 2:

The following morning Miss Fowl and the students from her class arrived at the school by twos and threes to construct the haunted house. The first task was to decide where to raise the structure. Some, like Cindy, felt that the traditional location on the athletic field would be best, while others, like Libby, favored the front lawn of the school. After some spirited debate it was agreed that the front lawn offered two significant advantages. The first was that the front lawn offered much greater visibility and had the best chance of attracting any casual passers-by. The second was that it was significantly closer to the storage room in the school basement and made transporting the necessary components far easier. Even so it took most of the morning to haul the various parts outside and organize them, and it wasn't until after lunch that the first supports began to go up.

During the afternoon activities Jimmy supervised the others, which irritated Cindy no end. Like most of the others he had been through the haunted house before, but his photographic memory made him the best candidate for putting it together in the shortest amount of time. Even so taking orders from Jimmy irked her, and she took every opportunity she could to insult him.

"Hey, Nerd-tron," she called out as she and Libby fitted a panel into place. "What are you going to do to advertise that this is a haunted house? Tell people you've moved here?"

"Actually, Vortex," Jimmy shot back as Cindy and Libby were laughing, "I thought I'd just paint your face on the front of it. I'm assuming that most people could figure it out from that."

Cindy growled and hammered with a vengeance as Libby tried not to snicker at Jimmy's comeback. "You just watch it, Neutron," she warned. "If you think that this place is scary, just remember that I can be your worst nightmare."

Jimmy couldn't resist. "Isn't that what I just said?"

Cindy drew back with the hammer but as she hesitated, wondering whether or not to actually throw it, Sheen pulled it from her hand. "Thanks, Cindy," he said as he headed back to where he and Carl were putting up another section. "Hey, Jimmy!" he called. "Where did you want us to put that?" He walked over to a red wagon on which something the size and shape of a microwave oven was covered with a tarpaulin and he poked curiously at it with the handle of the hammer. The other students had noticed it before but had been kept too busy to wonder what it might be.

"Uh…" Jimmy seemed unusually evasive. "Don't worry about that thing, Sheen. I'll install that myself when we're ready to go."

"But –" Sheen began.

"Don't argue, Sheen," Libby told him. "It'll be that much less work for us."

Sheen sighed. "Fine." He surveyed the progress of the work before rejoining Carl. "I'd guess another hour and we'll be good to go."

"That's about what I figure," agreed Jimmy. "Once the walls are up all that's left is to install the props and effects and put the canvas roof on. Then we'll be ready to open for business."

"How many people do you figure will come?" Carl asked as he struggled to help Sheen put up another section.

Jimmy considered it. "Well, for the first night I figure mostly just our parents and relatives, so maybe fifty or sixty. But between the posters we'll put up tomorrow and word of mouth I'd say we'll easily triple that tomorrow."

"You seem awfully certain about how successful this place is going to be," Cindy commented. She looked suspiciously at Jimmy. "Why?"

"Why?" Jimmy repeated innocently.

Cindy left where she had been working with Libby and planted herself in front of him. "Why?" she demanded.

Jimmy looked to both sides before gesturing for her to lean closer. "Can you keep a secret?" he whispered.

Still suspicious but intrigued in spite of herself, Cindy nodded. "Yes," she whispered back.

"Well," Jimmy answered quietly, looking both mysterious and mischievous, "then that makes two of us."

Feeling tormented beyond all endurance, Cindy grabbed Jimmy by the neck with both hands just as Nick walked by with another load of support members. "Hey, guys, get a room," he commented as he passed them.

Nick's opinion of her was one of the few that actually mattered to Cindy and she instinctively released her hold on Jimmy as she turned and tried to explain. "But Nick… it wasn't…we weren't…he…I was just…" she tried feebly as Nick passed from view around a corner of the partially completed structure. She turned back to Jimmy, who was lying on the ground and laughing uncontrollably. Libby proved to be no help. Although her back was turned to Cindy her shoulders were shaking and every now and then a small squeak escaped her.

"I'm sorry, Cindy," Libby apologized as she finally turned around and wiped her eyes. "But you have to admit it was kind of funny."

Cindy stood there, gritting her teeth. "Not funny," she managed to get out between grinding molars. She walked stiffly over to Libby and resumed helping her install sections of the house, albeit in icy silence this time.

After Jimmy had regained his composure he watched her for a few minutes and reluctantly decided that he had gone too far. He walked up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Cindy –"

Cindy angrily shook his hand off, but said nothing.

"Come on, Cindy," Jimmy tried again. "It was just a joke. Don't be mad."

"Mad?" Cindy replied in a voice that would liquefy nitrogen. "I'm not mad." To emphasize the point she re-appropriated her hammer and pounded viciously. "Why do you think I'm mad?"

"Well, for one thing, you're trying to use a hammer instead of a wrench to get the nut onto that bolt."

"Oh, joyous day," Cindy gushed as she let the hammer drop. "He not only knows how to keep secrets, he dispenses wisdom as well. How ever were we so lucky to have someone like you in our school?"

Jimmy looked puzzled. "Come on, Cindy. You're blowing this all out of proportion. Why are you so mad at me?"

"I told you," Cindy said evenly. "I'm not mad."

"But –"

"I'M – NOT – MAD!" she yelled, so loudly that everyone stopped what they were doing. Miss Fowl appeared from the other side of the partially assembled haunted house and headed towards her.

"What is going o-o-on here?" she clucked.

Cindy stood silently for a long moment, her face red with anger and her chest heaving. With a great effort she mastered herself and managed to unclench her tightly balled fists. "Nothing," she finally said looking from Jimmy to Miss Fowl. "Nothing at all." She turned and walked quickly away. "I just need a break, is all."

Miss Fowl watched her walk off and then cocked an eyebrow at Jimmy. He squirmed uncomfortably beneath her silent gaze. "I suppose," he said slowly, "that I might have been teasing her. But just a little," he added quickly. "It's nothing that I haven't done before. But she's never blown up like this before." He looked in the direction Cindy had gone and concern crept into his voice. "I'm worried. This just isn't like her."

Libby, Sheen, and Carl had been listening to Jimmy's . "No, it isn't," Libby agreed. "I mean, Jimmy can really get on Cindy's nerves, but she's never reacted like this."

Sheen nodded. "I'll say. Usually when she gets upset she just threatens to pound Jimmy into tapioca and then everything is back to normal again with them irritating the heck out of each other."

"Yeah," put in Carl, "except for when they get all lovey-dovey and –"

"What? We never do that!" Jimmy protested.

"Save it," said Libby, as the others rolled their eyes. "You can go into denial later."

Miss Fowl nodded in agreement. "Yes," she agreed. "Right now we have a haunted house to finish. I'm sure that Ci-i-indy will cool off and be back soon. I hope," she added uncertainly. "Back to work!" She wandered back around the house, shaking her head. _Pre-teens and their hormones_, she thought to herself. _They'll be the death of me yet._

Carl, Sheen, and Libby returned to work but Jimmy continued to stare in the direction Cindy had gone as he futilely sought answers. Was Cindy really as angry at him as she had seemed? If so, why? And why wouldn't she have told him why? In all the years he had known her Cindy had always been blunt – often painfully so – when detailing his shortcomings. Something was terribly wrong, he was certain, but just what was beyond him. As with most boys his age girls were a mystery to him at the best of times, much less times like this.

"Earth to Neutron!" he heard someone call.

"What?" He resurfaced from the depths of his thoughts. "What's that?"

"Are you supervising us, or what?" Butch asked. "How are we supposed to put this entryway together?"

Reluctantly Jimmy went to oversee the fabrication of the gabled entrance to the haunted house. "No problems, Butch," he said. "Everything here makes perfect sense if you think about it." _Well_, he corrected himself, _almost everything._

End of Chapter 2

Author's Notes:

Some readers have commented on the atypical beginning in Chapter 1 of this story in which I elaborated on the identity of the major characters. I actually have done so in other stories I've written for a couple reasons, although some readers may not remember it. The first reason is that much of the Jimmy Neutron fan fiction seems to take place in the future or (occasionally) in the past and I want to definitely establish that the stories I write are more or less in synch with the television show. The second reason is that I assume that once in a while the fan of another show might be reading these stories and needs a little orientation. In any case I hope the start-up doesn't drag too much when I do this.

In this chapter some may be rather curious about what is going on with Cindy's atypical behavior. As time goes on this should clear up…eventually.

Page 4 of 4


	3. Chapter 3 The Phobifier 5000

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Chapter 3:

Just as Sheen had predicted it took only about an hour more to finish building and preparing the house, but Cindy did not return. As the others assessed the results of their hard work Jimmy gave them all a "thumbs up". "Great work, guys," he congratulated them. "This is going to be the best haunted house ever."

As with most haunted house attractions this attraction was essentially a labyrinth which led the spectators to various chambers in semi- to total darkness. Each of the chambers contained some kind of gruesome exhibit and the corridors contained a variety of surprises to startle the viewers on their journey through the house, and the modular design allowed the exact sequence of events to be changed from year to year. Jimmy had chosen to use the same setup from the previous Hallowe'en.

Butch scratched his head as he examined the set-up. "I don't know, Neutron," he said. "Maybe I'm being overly critical, but this doesn't look all that scary."

"Yeah, Jimmy," Libby agreed. She paused for a moment to stretch and unkink her weary muscles. "I'm not sure that anyone would be afraid of this place…except maybe Carl."

"Well, maybe," Carl said doubtfully. "Maybe if my Mom and Dad weren't with me and I'd had a nightmare about being in a haunted house and it was really, really dark and…" His voice died away and his shoulders drooped in defeat. "Oh, who am I kidding? I don't think it's scary, either."

The other students standing nearby nodded in agreement. In the late afternoon light of early spring the painted ghosts, black cats, witches, and skeletons on the exterior seemed incongruous, almost comical, and Jimmy hastened to reassure the group. "Guys, guys, you're the ones who just spent all day putting it together," he said. "Of course you wouldn't be scared of it. The keys to scariness are atmosphere and not knowing what to expect. You're tired, you're hungry, and it's still daytime. Tonight, when it's dark and you've had a chance to rest up a bit, I promise that it will seem a whole lot spookier to you and everyone else who comes."

Jimmy's assurances didn't convince anyone but the mention of some dinner and rest was enough to quiet their doubts for the moment. They all headed home, promising to return by 8:00 PM to open the house. Miss Fowl was the last to leave.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Jimmy," she said. "These kids have put a lot of work into this. If it flops they'll…well…"

"Be disappointed?" Jimmy suggested.

Miss Fowl shook her head. "Actually, I was going to say, 'beat you into tapioca'." She started off. "See you at eight."

Jimmy watched her go, feeling both defiant and disgruntled. "I'll show them," he muttered. "This is going to be the scariest thing anyone has ever seen." He activated his wrist comp. "Goddard!" Goddard's image appeared on the tiny viewscreen. "I'm at the school. Get over here right away. We've got work to do." Goddard barked an acknowledgement and the image blinked out.

Less than a minute later Goddard appeared, dropping from the sky like a miniature helicopter. He walked up to Jimmy and stared quizzically at him.

"Glad you could make it, boy," Jimmy greeted him. He crossed over to his wagon and began to undo the fastenings on the tarpaulin. "I need you to help me set up and calibrate this."

Goddard watched with interest as Jimmy pulled the covering off the mysterious contents to reveal what seemed to be a rather ordinary microwave oven, although it was painted an unconventional flat black. Goddard examined it carefully and then looked back at Jimmy.

"I know it doesn't look like much," Jimmy said, heaving the device out of the wagon. "But this is going to be the secret ingredient to our haunted house attraction. Help me get it to the top of the middle stanchion there." Obediently Goddard took both Jimmy and the device on his back and used his jump jets to lift into the air. Although Jimmy had ridden Goddard many times before he felt a strong wave of vertigo surge through him as they ascended. The sensation passed, however, and he busied himself with securing the contraption to the top of the pillar. Once that was done he gingerly stepped off Goddard onto one of the cross members.

"Okay, Goddard," he said, after he had balanced himself. "Go to the northeast corner and show me the signal strength normalized to 60 dBm when I activate it."

Goddard glided away and stationed himself at the designated location, his chest plate lifting to reveal his monitor screen. Jimmy punched a button on the front panel and looked towards Goddard. The screen read: SIGNAL STRENGTH: 0.

Jimmy frowned at this. "That can't be right," he muttered. "There should be something getting through." He opened an access panel on the side of the device and peered inside. "The energy cell is in place, all the connections are there, the antenna is oriented…what could be wrong?" He closed the panel and pressed the button again in irritation. Immediately he heard Goddard bark and Jimmy looked over in his direction. The screen now read: SIGNAL STRENGTH: 103.

Although puzzled by odd turn of events Jimmy was nonetheless pleased. "A little high, but within limits," Jimmy said with satisfaction. "But I wonder why –" Before he could finish the thought another wave of vertigo hit him and he grabbed the column for support. This time the sensation ebbed, but did not completely pass, and Jimmy motioned to Goddard. "Show me the readings for the other corners, Goddard," he called weakly, "and then get me back down from here."

Goddard obediently traversed the haunted house structure and displayed the signal strengths for the other corners. The readings for all four corners were all about the same, with the highest signal strength being 106 and the lowest 102. Jimmy nodded with satisfaction and Goddard returned to him. Shakily Jimmy climbed onto his pet's back and clung tightly to Goddard as they drifted gently downward. The actual vertical distance was no more than ten feet, but to Jimmy it seemed like a thousand. Once back on the ground Jimmy crawled off and lay flat on the ground, trying desperately to stop the world from spinning around him. Gradually the dizziness passed and he risked sitting up again. Goddard watched him with concern.

"I'm okay, boy," Jimmy reassured him. "Just a little dizzy, is all." He got slowly to his feet and examined his handiwork. The sun was nearly setting and although he could clearly see the box he had installed he knew that once darkness fell it would be quite invisible. "I guess we can go home and get some dinner, now."

Goddard looked up at him and uttered an inquisitive bark.

"I'm sorry, boy." He patted Goddard's head affectionately. "Since you helped I guess there's no reason to keep it a secret from you. That's my Phobifier 5000." Goddard cocked his head to one side and Jimmy went on. "Basically, I took my Neutron Encephalo-synthesizer and coupled it with a standard amplified alpha wave transmitter."

Goddard barked again and Jimmy sighed at the memory.

"Yes, Goddard, I know that there were some problems with the encephalo-synthesizer. But that was just because a lightning strike initiated a simultaneous mind transfer when I was talking with Cindy on the phone. The weather forecast is for clear skies all this week. There's no way something like that could happen this time."

Goddard whimpered and cocked his head, prompting Jimmy to go on.

"Anyway, the Phobifier 5000 receives the alpha waves of anyone near it and filters out the frequencies associated with feelings of fear and anxiety. It then amplifies those frequencies and transmits them back to on a subharmonic of the original frequency so that the subject believes that whatever he or she is afraid of is actually present. In short, it turns fears into reality…virtual reality, that is. Anyone going through this haunted house is in for the best scary time of their lives."

Goddard whined unhappily and Jimmy stroked the robotic canine's head. "Don't worry, boy," Jimmy said soothingly. "Nothing that people are afraid of will actually be real. And I know that it can't affect you." He headed home with Goddard at his side. "What could possibly go wrong?"

Page 3 of 3


	4. Chapter 4 Scary Tales Can Come True

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Chapter 4:

When Jimmy arrived back at the school at 7:30 PM he found that he was not the first one there. The students who had volunteered for various roles inside the haunted house had already arrived and were in costume, rehearsing their parts in the pale light cast by the streetlights in front of the school. "Hey, Neutron," a pale, ragged figure with darkened eye sockets and glowing red eyes greeted him.

Jimmy had to look twice to convince himself that it was Nick. "Hey, Nick. Nice…umm…what are you, anyway?"

Nick shrugged. "A zombie. Not as cool as a vampire, but I'm not much for formal wear. Hey, check it out." Fixing his eyes in a glazed stare, Nick shambled slowly towards Jimmy, his arms stretched out stiffly before him. "Bra-a-ains," he moaned.

Even though he knew it was Nick, Jimmy backed away nervously. "Pretty good, Nick. That should really work…later…when the customers get here…" As Nick continued to advance Jimmy felt a surge of irrational fear. "Nick? Okay, that's enough. Save it for the show." As Jimmy's fear rose to panic Nick suddenly stopped and broke into laughter.

"That was great," he guffawed as relief washed over Jimmy. "You should have seen your face." Nick peered closer at Jimmy's face. "Hey, are you okay? You looked kind of funny."

Jimmy shook his head. "I'm fine," he said. "It must just be the streetlights."

"No," Nick insisted. "I mean, you really looked scared for a minute."

"How did he look?" Carl asked, coming up behind Nick.

Nick couldn't resist. "Well," he answered slowly, "he looked kind of like…" Nick suddenly whirled about and began advancing on Carl just as he had on Jimmy moment before. "…you do! Bra-a-ains," he continued menacingly, his face set in an ominous sneer. "Need….bra a ains…."

Carl merely looked puzzled. "Do you want me to go look for some?" Frustrated by Carl's complete lack of reaction Nick walked off, shaking his head and muttering in disgust. Carl watched him go and then turned to Jimmy. "What was he so mad about?"

"I guess he thought you should have been scared." Jimmy thought about it. "Come to think of it, you should have been. I knew it was only Nick and he managed to scare me. For a few seconds I even thought he actually was a zombie."

"Is that what he is?" Carl took another look at him. "I thought he was one of those musician guys. You know, the ones that want to rock and roll all night and party every day."

Jimmy looked curiously at Carl. "So you really aren't scared?" He pointed to the group of skeletons, ghosts, zombies, and vampires mingling near the entrance to the haunted house. "Not by any of those guys?"

Carl studied them carefully and shook his head. "Nope."

Jimmy scratched his head. _This doesn't make any sense_, he thought. _Everyone is scared of something. And Carl is scared of everything._ "And you don't feel anything when you look at them?"

"Well…" Carl answered, considering it. "Butch in that white sheet over there kind of makes me hungry for marshmallows."

"I just don't get it," Jimmy mumbled. "The phobifier must be working for me to have been scared like that. What's going on?"

He didn't have time to puzzle over this odd turn of events as Miss Fowl and most of the other kids began to arrive and it was necessary for him to oversee the final details. He assigned the role-players to specific rooms and locations inside the maze and turned up the lights inside the haunted house to allow them to find their way to their respective places. Once everyone was in place he turned the lights back down to a dim glow and assigned the remaining students to the various other tasks of selling and collecting tickets, handing out flyers to any passers-by, and even policing the front lawns. Principal Willoughby had made it very clear that the fundraiser was not to make a mess of the school grounds and Jimmy was taking no chances in case the principal happened to stop by. It was ten minutes to eight and he was breathing a sigh of relief when Libby came up to him from her place at the entrance, looking worried.

"Jimmy?" she asked.

Libby's tone instantly put Jimmy on alert. "What's up?"

"Well…I don't know everything about this haunted house thing…but…" She lookedembarrassed and concerned at the same time. "Did you…well…did you put an air conditioner inside the house?"

Jimmy looked surprised. "An air conditioner? With the temperatures this low? Absolutely not. Why?"

"Maybe you'd better come and check." Libby headed back towards the house. "It'd be easier than me trying to explain it."

Bewildered, Jimmy followed her to the entrance and immediately saw – or rather felt – what Libby had meant. A cool rush of air from the darkened mouth of the haunted house flowed over and around him, chilling his skin and causing the cobwebs hanging overhead to billow outward. As Jimmy stood there he became aware that the outdraft carried the smell of freshly-dug earth and that, just on the edge of hearing, he thought that could hear a low, guttural moan from deep within. He shivered without realizing it.

Libby shivered as well. "I know what you mean. It's pretty creepy. But it's the cobwebs that really creep me out, because I hate spiders. Nice scary touch, though."

Startled, Jimmy looked up at the silken tatters wafting in the breeze. "But there weren't any cobwebs," he said. He turned his attention back to the entrance to the house. "And I didn't put in anything to circulate the air like this."

"Then what's going on?" Libby asked. "Where did the webs come from? And what's making this wind?"

Jimmy shrugged helplessly. "I'm not sure. For every action there's an equal and opposite reaction. Maybe the structure heated up during the day and now that it's cooling off the internal and external pressures are–"

Libby never found out what Jimmy's theory was. He was interrupted by a rush of people who poured out of the house and nearly knocked them over in their haste to exit. Jimmy grabbed one of the last to exit, wanting answers, and saw that it was Britney. She was wrapped in a mock burial shroud and crying hysterically. "I'm not going back in," she sobbed. "I'm not. I'm not."

Jimmy shook her. "Britney! Snap out of it! What's going on?"  
Britney only blubbered in response and Jimmy looked helplessly at Libby. Libby gently patted her arm and spoke soothingly. "It's okay, Brit," she said. "You don't have to go back in. Just let us know what happened."

Libby's sympathy seemed to reach Britney, whose sobs diminished. Finally, in a small voice, she sniffled, "I was…lying in that fake coffin…and waiting to scare people who came in…just like I was supposed to. I thought of how scared people would be…by someone sitting up in a coffin like that. I remember that it seemed to be taking a long time for anyone to come…and how uncomfortable it was…so I tried to get a little more comfortable."

"Go on," Libby urged.

"And then…" Britney went on intently, "I realized why it was so uncomfortable in there…" She drew in deep breath and looked terrified. "It was because…because…"

"Yes?" asked Jimmy.

"_Because someone was in the coffin with me!"_

Jimmy and Libby looked at each other, startled. It was Jimmy who spoke first. "It was probably just Nick, pulling a practical joke, Britney," he said. "He was just trying to scare you, just like he tried to scare me earlier." _And did a darned good job of it_, he thought.

"Yeah, Brit," Libby agreed. "Someone was just playing a joke on you."

Britney stared at the two of them, her eyes wide and shaking her head in denial. "No," she insisted, her voice choked with fear. "The coffin was empty when I got in, and no one got in with me. It was just…there…from out of nowhere."

"That's preposterous!" Jimmy protested. "That can't happen. It's scientifically impossible."

Libby nodded doubtfully. "Yeah, Britney. It does sound pretty far-fetched. You were probably just scared and imagined the whole thing."

Britney backed away from them, their doubt of her story restoring some of her reason and spirit. She shook her head defiantly, her eyes wild and her lips half-curling in a knowing smile. "You'll see," she whispered hoarsely. "You'll see I was right."

"What do you mean?" Jimmy asked. "Why will we?"

"Because," Britney whispered, as she turned to run off, "I could hear it following me out."

Libby and Jimmy watched her disappear down the street. "I don't like the sound of that," Libby ventured.

Jimmy said nothing, his ears straining. From inside the haunted house he could hear, or thought he could hear, a faint shuffling sound. As he continued to listen the sound was repeated, growing gradually louder until there could be no mistaking that someone or something approaching. "I like the sound of that even less," he faltered, moving farther away from the entrance.

Libby joined him. As they both watched a tall shape materialized in the shadowy opening and shambled towards them, its arms outstretched and its dead eyes fixing them with a cold, inhuman stare. "Bra-a-ains," it groaned hoarsely as it lurched towards them.

Jimmy and Libby stared, too frightened for the moment to move. _At least it's not spiders_, Libby thought in some corner of her mind. As the horror before them shuffled closer to her and Jimmy she caught a glimpse of something else moving behind it. Something very large, she realized with a sinking feeling, with many legs.

End of Chapter 4

Author's Notes:

The hard part with writing a chapter with many people is that it's nearly impossible to involve everyone and still focus on the main thread of the story so that several characters are left out. For fans of Sheen, Carl, and Miss Fowl they'll have plenty to do in the upcoming chapters. As for Cindy, she has a special part to play in all this and will definitely pop up again.

Page 4 of 4


	5. Chapter 5 From Fear to Eternity

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Chapter 5:

Despite his best efforts to remain calm Jimmy's voice was shaking. "This is not good."

"You think?" Libby shot back nervously. She tried to think of everything her parents had taught her about dealing with bullies and strangers, but none of the advice seemed to apply to walking undead and an 8-foot spider. _Next time we think of ways to raise money, I'm going with the babysitting idea,_ she thought.

Despite the terror engulfing him Jimmy tried to insinuate himself between Libby and the creatures advancing on them. "Okay, Libby," he said, "When I count to three, I want you to –"

He was interrupted by a familiar clucking voice. "Hey! Creature!" The two monsters halted and slowly turned to face their unknown challenger. "Leave those kids alo-o-ne!"

The spider hissed and snapped its dripping fangs at Miss Fowl while the zombie lurched towards her, muttering its familiar mantra of "Bra-a-ains." Miss Fowl waited calmly for the creature to approach, and then, as it reached for her, drew back and landed a roundhouse right on its jaw. There was a crack of fracturing bone and tendon as the force of her blow spun it about and dumped it, senseless, on the lawn. This appeared to unnerve the spider. It huddled down and began to inch slowly away from the stern teacher.

"And you!" Miss Fowl snapped in a tone that Jimmy and Libby knew all too well. She marched towards the spider, waving her finger at it. "How would you like a nice detention – down the drain?"

The prospect apparently did not appeal to the spider. With a final hiss of disappointment and fear it turned and scurried back to the haunted house, squeezing through the opening to disappear into the blackness from whence it came. Jimmy and Libby were momentarily speechless as Miss Fowl smoothed some stray strands of hair back into place.

"That was amazing!" Libby said at last. "Weren't you scared?"

"Scared? Of them?" Miss Fowl replied and shook her head. "I was married to a werewolf once. I'm not afraid of some second-rate undead with poor fashion skills." The zombie on the ground seemed to take offense at this, for it groaned angrily. Miss Fowl swung towards it, clearly in no mood for any backtalk. "Zip it!" she snapped and the creature subsided, totally cowed. "And spiders are something that every woman on her own has to learn to deal with," Miss Fowl continued. "It's vampires that really bug me."

"I wish you hadn't said that," said Jimmy, who had been thinking about what had happened.

"Why?" asked Miss Fowl. "Everyone is afraid of something. That's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I know it's not something to be ashamed about," Jimmy replied. "But it seems that –"

Jimmy seemed doomed to never complete a sentence, for a cold, faintly-accented voice broke in. "Winnifred Fowl," it said. "I have come for you." Already knowing what they would see, the three turned to face a tall, darkly handsome, and aristocratic figure clad in formal attire and standing in the entrance of the haunted house. It regarded them coldly and then smiled, revealing a set of white teeth accentuated by a pair of long and extremely sharp canines. "Permit me to introduce myself," the vampire went on as it stepped forward. "My name is Count –"

It was now the vampire's turn to be interrupted by a lanky figure who stepped out of the shadows.. "Down? Chocula? De Money?"

"Sheen?" Libby gasped in disbelief.

With a snarl of fury the vampire seized the boy and lifted him entirely off the ground in one superhumanly powerful fist. "Foolish, callow youth!" he sneered. "You dare to mock me?"

Sheen seemed to give this serious consideration before nodding. "Yeah, I guess so."

This seemed to throw the undead count off-guard. "It was a rhetorical question."

"'Rhetorical'…" Sheen repeated thoughtfully. "That's a word I probably should know, but to tell you the truth I'm not really that good a student so you'll probably have to tell me what it means."

"What it means," the vampire returned grimly, "is that I will drain you of every last drop of blood and leave you a withered and lifeless husk before I deal with your friends." He bared his fangs again and drew Sheen closer. "Do you have any last words?"

"Yes," Sheen answered as the fangs came within inches of his neck. "Do you like garlic sausage as much as I do?" As the vampire hesitated, wondering what this could mean, Sheen suddenly breathed heavily into his would-be predator's face. Instantly the vampire dropped Sheen, gasping and choking as it writhed in agony. As Jimmy and the others watched in wonder the vampire dwindled before their eyes, assuming the shape of a bat, and fluttered away. Sheen shook his fist after the bat as it disappeared into the night, squeaking in rage. "And there's plenty more where that came from!" he shouted. Satisfied that the immediate danger was over he sauntered over to his friends and teacher.

"That was unbelievable!" Libby greeted him as he came up.

"Yeah, well, nothing any superhero who likes garlic sausage wouldn't have done," he answered, throwing an arm around Libby's shoulders. "Fortunately I happened to know that vampires absolutely hate the smell of garlic."

Libby pushed him away. "They aren't the only ones."

"Okay," Jimmy said. "Everything looks clear for the moment. Just don't think of anything –"

"Hey, guys," Carl said to them as he wandered up. "Is it all over?"

"Apparently so," Sheen replied. "It's a pity, in a way. It was kind of fun."

"Yeah," Carl agreed. "Miss Fowl beating up the zombie and scaring off that spider and you chasing the vampire away was pretty cool. This is probably the best haunted house I've ever seen, mostly because it isn't scary." He stopped to look at Jimmy, who was glaring at him. "What?"

"Will everyone please give me a chance to talk without interrupting me?" he yelled. The others stared at him silently and Jimmy nodded. "Good. Now, first of all, don't think of anything that scares you. It seems that those kinds of thoughts cause these creatures to appear."

"Oh," Sheen said. "You mean like the Marrow Suckers from Ultra Lord Episode 85 or the Flesh Peelers from Episode 121 or -"

Libby clamped a hand over his mouth. "But why would they appear at all?" she asked. "It seems like that's what we need to find out."

"Maybe this haunted house was built on an old cemetery or something and we've angered the spirits by disturbing their eternal rest," Carl suggested.

Miss Fowl shook her head. "Impossible. Before the school was here there was an old recycling plant. Of course," she went on, "since that was back around World War I it wasn't very successful and they had to eventually close it down."

Sheen pushed Libby's hand off his mouth. "I knew it!" he lamented, clenching his fists in despair. "We're being tormented by the spirits of all those post-consumer recyclables that were denied their eternal rest in some landfill!"

"No, Sheen," Jimmy answered. "It's the Phobifier 5000."

Libby put her hands on her hips. "And what, exactly, is a Phobifier 5000?"

Jimmy sighed and knew that he had to confess. "It's something I invented to make the haunted house scarier," he said. "It reads your brain waves to determine what you're afraid of and then sort of tricks you into thinking what you're afraid of is really there."

"Well, congratula-a-ations," Miss Fowl clucked dryly. "It worked."

"But it's only supposed to make you think that something scary is there. It's not supposed to make them real."

"So what's going on?" Carl asked.

"And why aren't all the things that Carl is afraid of popping out of there?" Libby added.

"I don't know," answered Jimmy. "I don't know why the phobifier making things actually appear. I don't know why it isn't affecting Carl. And I don't know why it's working on us when we're out here and I calibrated it so that it would only affect people inside the house." He paced back and forth as he always did when he was trying to find the solution to a difficult problem. "But there must be some logical explanation. And the way Cindy was acting must figure into all this as well. There must be a connection. But what?"

"Jimmy?" Carl asked.

Jimmy didn't seem to hear him. "At least things seem to be under control," he went on. "As long as we don't think about anything we're scared of we should be safe."  
Libby looked thoughtful. "You mean, like that guy said, 'All we have to fear is fear itself?'"

"That's, 'The only thing we have to fear is fear itself'," Miss Fowl corrected her.

Libby rolled her eyes. "If you want to say it the square way," she defended.

"Jimmy?" Carl tried again.

"Okay," Jimmy said. "Until I can understand what's going on the only thing to do is to shut down the phobifier. The closer I get to it the harder it will be for me to not be affected, but I think I can do it if the rest of you can keep your thoughts under control."

"Jimmy!" Carl nearly shouted.

Jimmy turned to Carl with a sigh. "What is it, Carl?" he asked.

Carl pointed to the mass of humanity approaching them. "What about them?"

Jimmy stared at the crowd of people who were arriving for the advertised haunted house attraction, each of whom, he was sure, was filled with thoughts of what frightened them and vague ideas of what might actually be there to scare them. "Gas planets!" was all he could say.

End of Chapter 5

Page 4 of 4


	6. Chapter 6 What Dreams May Come

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Chapter 6:

Cindy was tired. She had been walking for hours, but had no idea where she was going or where she had been. She knew only that she had to keep going even if she did not know what it was that drove her on or for what purpose. She was trying to get to something, she thought dimly. Or was it away from something? The answer was somewhere in the black recesses of her mind, just beyond the reach of light and reason. A secret flame, it fired the raw emotion that that drove her on while remaining beyond her powers of insight or intellect.

At length she was too fatigued to go on and she collapsed on a bench to rest. Through the haze surrounding her she vaguely realized that, for all her walking, she was only a few blocks from the school. The thought was somehow disquieting, and the uneasiness served only to irritate her and further fuel her anger. The emotion both supplied and devoured energy within her, and for a long moment she wavered as she was caught in the terrible conflict between its enervating power and its debilitating effects. In the end her exhausted body decided for her, and she slipped into a deep slumber.

Sleep did not bring her a total respite, however. In her dreams she continued to roam the streets of Retroville, still angry and unsure of her objective but no longer a helpless captive of blinding rage. As she continued to wander, looking about her, she heard a vaguely familiar voice calling her.

"Hello, Cindy," it said.

Cindy turned, puzzled. "Jacques?"

The former exchange student smiled. "Yes. It is good to see you again. You are happy to see me, no?"

"No," Cindy replied. "I mean, yes. I mean –"

Jacques took her hand in his and gave it a light kiss. "I have missed you, _ma chérie._"

Cindy felt oddly unmoved by the gesture, as though she were a spectator watching some faded and unremarkable movie from a great distance. In the scene she saw Jacques pull her to him and gently stroke her hair, and then she was back within herself, feeling his arms around her and looking up into his eyes. "Did you?" she heard herself say.

"_Mais oui_," he whispered. "This night apart has seemed forever."

"This night?"

"Yes," Jacques replied softly. "When we parted, the sun set for me and never rose again. But one night or a hundred, I have measured the time in heartbeats."

Before Cindy could answer she heard an infuriatingly familiar voice. "What, you couldn't just use a watch?"

"Neutron!" Cindy spat. She pulled free of Jacques and swung to confront Jimmy, who was coolly regarding the fingernails of his right hand. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Me?" Jimmy looked innocent. "I was just out shopping for a picnic I was planning. It looks like all I really need is some fried chicken." He strolled past Cindy and Jacques and gave them both a smug look that made Cindy's blood boil. "I think there's more than enough corn here already."

As Jimmy departed Cindy could almost feel her teeth cracking as she ground them together. "That…little…" she stuttered in rage. "What does he know about anything?" The anger she had almost forgotten about blazed up again and threatened to engulf her before she could regain control and turn back to Jacques. "I'm sorry. Sometimes he makes me so mad I could just…just…" She made motions of wringing out a wet washcloth.

Jacques watched Jimmy walk away and then sighed and shook his head. "Perhaps this was not a good time. Some other time, perhaps." He turned and began walking away in the opposite direction Jimmy had gone.

"No, wait," Cindy protested. While she had not particularly been enthused to see him she was reluctant to see him go. "It's okay. I'm not upset at you. It's that idiot –"

"_Au revoir, cherie_," Jacques called back faintly as he faded into the distance. "Some other time..."

Cindy watched him disappear from view with mixed emotions. Being in Jacques' arms and caressed by him hadn't really excited her, she told herself. So why did it hurt to see him go?

"Can you believe the nerve of that guy?"

Cindy looked around, startled. She hadn't heard anyone come up. "Nick?" She looked in the direction Jacques had gone and back again and shook her head. "It's wasn't his fault. It was that nitwit Neutron that made him go."

Nick leaned back against a lamppost and nodded. "That's what I mean. You can't turn around without Neutron being there and messing things up for you."

At the mention of the name a twinge at the back of her mind made Cindy wince. "What?"

"Think about it." Nick moved up next to her and gently brushed her arm with his finger, but the pain in Cindy's head kept her from noticing. "You've got plans, things are going along fine, and then – bam!" Nick smacked his fist into his palm to emphasize the point. "There's Neutron to mess things up. Just like now. Just like then."

"Like…when?" The throbbing in Cindy's head worsened. She clutched at her head and shut her eyes tightly, trying to block out the pain.

Nick went on, seemingly oblivious to her distress. "I mean, I was all ready to take out that overgrown chicken. I'm not a coward. I could have handled it. But before I could, that little runt swoops in and ruins everything. We didn't need him then." He put his hands on Cindy's shoulders and gently pulled her closer. "And we don't need him now. We never did."

Somehow Nick's words seemed to lessen the pain and Cindy opened her eyes, looking up at him. "We?" she repeated.

"You know it," Nick replied, his voice smooth and soothing. "We, as in –"

"- the first two letters in 'weird'," the insufferably irritating voice broke in.

The pain in Cindy's head instantly returned. With a snarl of unbridled fury, Cindy tore away from Nick and stalked towards Jimmy, blood in her eye. Jimmy stood his ground, looking unruffled at her approach. "That's it, Nerd-tron," she snapped. "Prepare to die!"

Once again Jimmy gave her that guileless stare. "What for?"

"For being where you shouldn't be once too often!" she yelled at him. "Nick is right! We can't turn around without you being there!"

"Well, where else should I be?" Jimmy asked.

"I don't care! Nowhere! Somewhere! Anywhere but here!" She stamped back and forth, the rage and anguish she felt growing inside her as she spoke. "I've had it with you and the way you keep interfering in my life! If it's not space aliens kidnapping my parents, it's swapping our brains or being threatened by rampaging pants or…or…" Her voice crumbled and she sank to her knees, the agony in her head forcing tears from her eyes. "Make it stop," she pleaded, her voice becoming a sob of anguish. "Somebody…please…make it stop."

Nick shook his head in sympathy. "I wish I could," he said, "but it looks like this is between you and Neutron." He turned and walked away, still shaking his head. "Catch me later when you get it worked out."

Jimmy stood there in silence, as though uncertain what to say or do. At last he said only, "It's up to you," and walked away.

Cindy remained where she was, kneeling on the ground her head in her hands and her eyes tightened against the merciless pounding in her head. She had scarcely heard what Nick and Jimmy had said, and was only barely conscious of their departure. She felt small and alone, engulfed in an ocean of pain that tore at her with each fresh wave that swept over and around her. In the midst of her suffering she heard a laugh from far away, and a trickle of astonishment penetrated the blackness that surrounded her. She felt the touch of a hand on her shoulder and at the touch the pain that had tormented her subsided enough for her to look up in dull curiosity.

"Hello, Cindy," the figure said.

Cindy didn't answer, feeling only relief that the pain, while still there, was now bearable. She tried to focus her eyes on the person standing before her. It seemed to be a boy a couple years older than her.

"How are you feeling? You don't look too good."

Cindy nodded. "No. There's something wrong. Something I have to fix. But I don't know how."

The boy squatted down beside her. "Care to talk about it? Maybe I can help."

Something in the voice made it difficult to resist and the prospect of help sounded good to Cindy. With the boy's assistance she made it to her feet and she stood there silently, wondering what to say, as the boy waited patiently for her to speak. "There's something wrong," she said, her voice barely audible, "but I don't know what. All I know is that it hurts and I want it to stop. But I don't know how to stop it. I don't know what to do. He's the only one who always knows what to do. But he can't help me. And I don't want him to help me."

The boy's voice was sympathetic. "Sounds like you have issues."

The phrase struck a chord somewhere inside Cindy and she squinted, trying to recognize the boy speaking to her. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"We've met a couple time before," the boy replied, "but it's been a while, so you may not remember me. My name is Lou." He held out his hand and smiled, and while his manner seemed friendly there was the suggestion of something behind it that Cindy didn't trust. "Lou Cipher. I think maybe I can help you. Maybe…" His smiled widened and he went on. "Maybe we can help each other."

End of Chapter 6

Page 4 of 4


	7. Chapter 7 Past Most Imperfect

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Chapter 7:

Cindy pressed her palms against the painful throbbing in her head. "I don't…I don't understand," she managed to say. "What do you mean? How can you help?"

"I know the pain you're feeling," Lou answered. His tone became almost hypnotic, the words a chant. "I know what it is…where it comes from…and how to make it go away. It can all go away." The words were a promise of peace and a release from her torment. "Just trust me and be free."

Lou's offer might have seemed odd to Cindy, but the pain in her head was too much for her to question it. "How?" was all she could say.

"Do you trust me?" The voice which had been silk was now like stone, still smooth but as hard and cold as polished marble. "Tell me that you trust me."

As desperate as she was to end the suffering something within Cindy still resisted the voice. Other voices inside were trying to tell her something, and although she could not hear them clearly she knew that they were warning her to not trust this boy who sought to draw her in with the gentle words and promises of peace. She fought to remain free, but the struggle only increased her misery. "All right," she gasped at last. "I trust you." The surrender brought a measure of relief, but the pain that remained still brought a sob to her voice. "Just make it stop."

Lou moved behind her and his voice softened again as he massaged her neck. "Very good, Cindy," he assured her. "To remove the pain, find the source."

Cindy shook her head in bewilderment. "I don't understand."

Lou's voice was like the rustle of leaves in the wind. "Remember…"

"Remember, Cindy," her mother was telling her, "this is a new school year and you're a big girl now. You've always done well in your classes. Don't disappoint us."

Cindy's eyes snapped open in surprise. It was a late summer morning with the sun shining brightly and the leaves on the trees rustling gently overhead. Her parents were standing in front of her and seemed taller somehow, so that she had to lean back to look into their faces.

"What?" was all she could say.

"Now, Cindy," her father told her. "You have to concentrate. I know you must be upset, but just do your best and everything will be fine." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead just as the bell rang. "Now, hurry off to class. You don't want to be late for the first day." He leaned closer and whispered, "You know we'll always be proud of you, no matter what."

Her mother also kissed her good-bye and Cindy turned towards the school, feeling confused. There was something familiar about all this and she felt that something bad was going to happen, but she couldn't recall what. As she puzzled over it she heard a light voice call out, "Hey there, girlfriend."

"Hi Libby," Cindy replied automatically and slowed her pace somewhat.

Libby caught up with her at the door. "Something up? Why did your parents bring you today? You feeling okay?"

Cindy nodded absently. "Yes. I think so. I just think…"

"You're always thinking." Libby shook her head in exasperation. You have to learn to kick it down sometimes, girl. Being the smartest kid in school has to be a total drag." As Cindy turned down the hall from force of habit Libby stopped and planted her hands on her hips. "Hey, where you going?"

Cindy stopped. "Miss Fowl's class."

Libby stared and started laughing. "Miss Fowl's class? You been skipped ahead a few years and not tell me?" She pointed in the opposite direction. "Mrs. Fleeger's class is that way, girl."

_Mrs. Fleeger's class?_ Cindy thought as she mechanically rejoined Libby and proceeded down the hall. _But I had her back in third grade… back when…when…_ Almost in a state of shock, knowing what she would find, she opened the door to the classroom and walked in. It was just as she remembered it, although she had not thought about it for a long time. There was Mrs. Fleeger, chalking her name on the board at the front of the room. In the back of the classroom several kids were snickering and engaging in pre-class horseplay while the teacher's back was turned. And there, in the front row, was the boy she had learned to despise for two long years.

Jimmy Neutron. The boy genius who had cheated her of her victory at the junior spelling bee two years ago, and who would from this day forth eclipse her through the next three years of classes at Lindbergh elementary. Angry memories welled up inside her and her expression hardened at the thoughts of what she knew was to happen this day. Now she understood her parents' parting words. Back then she had been infuriated to learn that she be attending school with Jimmy Neutron. She had hated him for showing her up.

Like some of the other kids Jimmy had looked up to see who the new arrivals were and for a few seconds his eyes met Cindy's. Through the bitter memories she was shocked to see how young and vulnerable he looked. He had always been smaller than the other children his age, and now, as the new kid in school, he looked as frightened and alone as he must have felt. A brief look of pleasure crossed his face at seeing her and she puzzled over that before realizing that, hostile at it was, her face was at least a familiar one. Almost immediately he looked back down at the top of his desk and she crossed the room with Libby to occupy vacant seats as far from Jimmy as Cindy could get from him.

"Good morning, class," Mrs. Fleeger began in her precise, almost clipped, tones. "I'm pleased to see you all. I know that some of you are new here, but I'm sure that we'll all be good friends before the school year is over. If you will all take out a fresh sheet of paper we'll begin with our arithmetic lesson…"

Mrs. Fleeger's voice faded into a dull murmur in Cindy's ears as her thoughts moved over the events of the day, months, and years to come. By the end of the day Jimmy would firmly establish himself as the 3rd grade's star pupil and relegate her to the rank of second-best. By the end of the school year everyone would universally acknowledge him as the smartest student in school. The memory of her parents' disappointment at her change in status tore at her like talons.

"Cindy Vortex!" a man's voice called.

Cindy looked up, startled. She was no longer in Mrs. Fleeger's class. She was instead with her parents in the school auditorium, which was filled with the other students and their parents. "I'm sorry," she called out. "What were you saying?"

There was a sprinkle of laughter through the crowd and the voice, which she now recognized as belonging to Principal Willoughby, called out again. "Come on over to the stage, Cindy, and collect your award." Puzzled, Cindy took the stage and stood next to Principal Willoughby as he continued. "Cindy's science project on resource conservation through comprehensive recycling efforts has certainly been an eye-opener for us all and shows a great deal of thought, effort, and social responsibility."

There was prolonged applause at this. Cindy's parents smiled at her, but she didn't smile back or speak. She knew what was to come.

"Cindy," Principal Willoughby said, "I know that you and your parents will take great pride at being awarded Second Prize for your outstanding project. You've certainly earned it. Congratulations!"

The crowd applauded again as Cindy accepted the trophy, but the looks of disappointment on her parents' faces made her stare down at the floor in abject humiliation. She trudged off the stage as Willoughby went on.

"It would take miracle to out-do Cindy Vortex's project, but we have a young man here who's made a name for himself working miracles. The Grand Prize winner of this year's science fair is none other than Jimmy Neutron for his fully-functional scale model of an actual low-temperature fusion reactor…"

The sights and sounds of the science fair faded away and other scenes flashed before Cindy's eyes. She watched again as Jimmy broke state school testing records, became the youngest person ever to be awarded patents in fields of electronics, physics, chemistry, and cybernetics, receive credit for publishing a special theory on the fundamental nature of matter, and win one award after another despite her best efforts to best him. And each time, the effect on her parents was to have them grow more and more accustomed to the disappointment of having a daughter who, although gifted, seemed less and less exceptional after all.

Cindy once again became aware of Lou's voice speaking. "Do you remember?" she heard him ask. "Do you understand now the torment you feel and the fear you've always had?"

The mention brought the pain back to Cindy. "What fear?" she asked in a feeble voice.

"Of being second best," he replied. "Of not being good enough to the ones you care about."

Cindy shut her eyes and covered her ears, hoping that the pounding in her head would drown out the voice. "That's not true!" she cried. "They've always been proud of me. They said so!"

Lou pulled Cindy's hands away from her ears. "That's why you feel the pain, Cindy," he went on remorselessly in tones that were at once both reasonable and firm. "You keep it inside. And until you let it out it the pain will always be there."

Cindy shook her head in denial but her resolve was weakening. "I don't' believe you!"

"You've seen for yourself how it all began and where it all led. Jimmy is the source of your fear and your pain. You're afraid of him because of everything he's done to you. Afraid that he always will be better than you. Afraid that as long as he better is you're a failure you everyone you care about." He voice took on a gentle, nearly pleading tone. "Release your fear, and ease your pain, Cindy. It's the only way."

Cindy tried to fight on, but found herself too weary to resist any longer. With her head down and her shoulders hunched in defeat, she sagged to the ground. Her lips worked soundlessly for a moment before the words finally came out. "Yes," she whispered, barely loud enough for Lou to hear and oblivious to his satisfied smile. "I'm afraid of Jimmy Neutron."

End of Chapter 7

Author's Notes:

People have commented that the events and actions of the characters in the past chapter (and most likely this chapter as well) have seemed unreal. I consider that to be high praise, because they're supposed to be. I don't want to give away everything yet, but things should all tie up by the end of this story. From time to time I'd like to think that when people get to the end of these stories of mine they sometimes go, "HUH?", re-read them, and then say, "OH! RIGHT!"

There's not a lot of "official" information on what the early years of Jimmy and Cindy were like, so the best I can do with the backfill is to consider what has been revealed in the movie and TV episodes and then be consistent with the extrapolations my own stories. Readers of some of my other fan fictions might notice the references. If not this story should still hold together, although some background on Lou (from "The Devil and Jimmy Neutron" and "The Devil Came Back to Retroville") might add some meaning to the events transpiring.

Page 4 of 4


	8. Chapter 8 Do You Fear What I Fear?

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Chapter 8:

"This is bad," Jimmy said, as he took in the throng of people closing in. "Very bad."

"What are you saying?" asked Sheen. "With this many people attending our haunted house the field trip is in the bag!"

""No, Sheen," Miss Fowl corrected him. "Jimmy means that with this many people there's no telling what horrors might come out of that – that thing!" She pointed with a shaking finger at the dark structure on the school's front lawn.

"Well, then, what are we going to do?" Libby asked.

Jimmy had spotted his parents near the front to the approaching crowd and ran towards them. "Mom! Dad!" he called. "Stay back! This place is dangerous! You and everyone else have got to go back home before it's too late!"

Hugh and Judy Neutron halted in surprise at this outburst, but then started to laugh. "Great showmanship, son," Jimmy's father said as his son reached him. "There's nothing like building up the anticipation of the audience."

"No, Dad," Jimmy insisted. "You don't understand. You and everyone else here –"

Jimmy's father, however, had begun to reminisce and was oblivious to Jimmy's entreaties. "You know, I remember the first haunted house your mother and I went to together. Talk about scary!" He chuckled at the memory. "Your mother screamed like a girl when we went through."

"I _was_ a girl," Judy Neutron pointed out. "And I wasn't the one who did all the screaming."

"Well, one of us did," replied Hugh, "and that's all that matters."

"Dad -" Jimmy tried again.

"There was one thing in that house I remember that scared the willies out of both of us," Hugh continued. "It was this guy, covered with slimy green gook that was supposed to dissolve anything, who was surrounded by the skeletons of his victims. That still gives me the shivers." He shuddered at the thought and then pointed towards the haunted house. "Hey, just like that guy! Great job on that costume, son."

Jimmy looked and saw a shape dripping with glowing green ooze emerging from the entrance to the house. With each step there came a sizzle and wisp of smoke as the creature's foot touched the grass, and angry hisses as drops of stray slime dropped to the ground. Jimmy's father watched with interest.

"What a great idea, Jimbo," he said. "A haunted house with take-out service! You should franchise that idea. You'd make millions!"

"I don't think that the groundskeeper will be too happy about all those burn marks on the lawn, though," Jimmy's mother pointed out. "It's probably going to be a nightmare to re-sod those burn spots."

"Mom! Dad!" Jimmy shouted.

"No need to yell, son," Hugh remonstrated him. "I just wanted to watch the monster. I mean, actor."

"That's just it!" Jimmy yelled. "It's not an actor! It's a real monster! _You've got to get out of here!_"

Jimmy's mother looked concerned but his father tried to sound reasonable. "Now, son, I doubt the school would have given permission for this event if there were going to be real monsters," he argued. "I mean, we'd have had to sign parental permission slips, or something." He looked up at the shambling creature which was now barely a dozen yards away. A faint, acrid smell drifted from it towards them. "Although," he went on, a bit shakily, "I have to admit if there…_were_…real monsters, then this would…" His voice shook more. "This would…probably…be…one…"

As Hugh's voice trailed away in terrified silence the creature closed in. An oozing blob of a hand clawed at his face, but Hugh wasn't there. Jimmy mother, realizing that her son was telling the truth, knocked Hugh away. The creature clawed only air although some loosened flecks of slime sprayed onto the ground, blackening the grass.

Before the monster could recover Jimmy's mother and father had moved backward out of range. "Run for it!" Jimmy yelled. "I'll catch up with you later!" A quick look showed that half a dozen other monsters had emerged from the haunted house and were making their way towards the startled crowed. Fortunately the slime monster had convinced most of them that things were not as they should be and most of the people fled back towards their homes. The few doubters were carried away by the fleeing mob, with the monsters in close pursuit.

Jimmy joined Sheen, Carl, Libby, and Miss Fowl who had watched the display from a distance and had been safely out of danger. Libby seemed puzzled that none of the abominations that had appeared had turned towards them and asked Jimmy about this. Jimmy shrugged. "I guess that the creatures are initially locked onto the brainwave frequency that created it," was Jimmy's theory.

"You guess?" Libby echoed.

"Hey, they shouldn't be here at all. I haven't even figured out why these things are appearing in the first place. It's only a theory that they go after the person who created them, but it makes sense."

Carl had been thinking about Jimmy's theory. "So you mean if I were afraid of mummies that the mummies would come after me and no one else?"

"Ca-a-arl!" squawked Miss Fowl.

"Don't worry, Miss Fowl," Jimmy reassured her. "It doesn't seem to affect Carl. Although I don't know why," he concluded, frowning.

"That's not what I meant," Miss Fowl corrected him. "What if someone else here was afraid of mummies, like…"

Sheen completed her sentence. "Like me," he said, pointing. "Look!"

From the entrance of the haunted house several unmistakable bandage forms appeared and began to shuffle towards them. In contrast to Sheen's look of abject fear Libby looked merely annoyed. "Them again?" she said in contempt. "I'll take care of this." She strode forward and called, "Yo! Dead guys! I thought I commanded you to sleep for five –"

"Ten," corrected Sheen, Carl, and Jimmy.

"- ten trillion years! Your queen is speaking here, so listen up and hit and the sack!" Libby stood her ground but the mummies continued to advance, albeit very slowly. "What's up with these guys?" she demanded. "I'm supposed to be their queen, word."

"I don't think that these are the same ones we met before," Jimmy said. "So we have only two choices. The first is to destroy them."

"What destroys mummies?" asked Sheen.

"Well, I think fire would be bad for them," suggested Carl. "They look pretty dry. Anyone have a match?"

Jimmy pointed out the obvious. "Carl, we're all eleven years old. We're not allowed to carry matches."

"And I don't smo-o-oke," Miss Fowl added.

"Shazbot!" lamented Sheen. "We wouldn't be in this mess if this were the 1950's. Curse this politically correct, health-conscious 21st century!"

"What was the second choice, Jimmy?" Libby asked as rejoined the group.

"Run for our lives!" Jimmy yelled. He looked towards the mummies, who were still a good ways off and still moving slowly. "Or walk for our lives. Whatever."

The others murmured assent and having no better place to go the five of them headed towards the school building. Miss Fowl unlocked the front door and, after everyone had entered, closed and locked it again. She stared through the doors at the mummies who were laboring painfully up the steps and shook her head. "How in the world can you be so afraid of something that moves slower than my own mother, Sheen?" she clucked.

"Hey, I don't know," Sheen answered defensively. "They just look creepy, is all. Haven't you ever wanted to stay away from something that was creepy even if you were sure that it couldn't really hurt you?"

"Well," Miss Fowl admitted as they all headed down the darkened hall towards her classroom, "I did have in-laws once."

Once inside the classroom Libby asked, "Should we turn on the lights?"

"Better not," said Sheen. "It might attract something."

"That makes sense," agreed Jimmy. "We don't really need light anyway. We just need to figure out what's going on and how to fix it."

Jimmy had scarcely finished speaking when a loud shriek pierced the darkness, followed by the loud smack of something being slapped. There was a confused scuffle immediately after, followed by Miss Fowl demanding, "What in the name of Granny Goodness is going on?"

"Sorry, Miss Fowl," Sheen's apologized sheepishly. "I didn't know Libby was sitting there."

"Like you don't know where your desk and my desk are," came Libby's indignant retort.

"You might see that it's dark in here!" Sheen said defensivly. "I mean, you can't see that it's…if you could see…you know what I mean!"

"How convenient," Libby shot back icily, "considering that it was you who suggested that we leave the lights off."

"Hey, it was an honest mistake!" Sheen protested.

"Well you just remember that it'll be the last honest mistake you make the next time you make it," huffed Libby.

"Are you two through?" demanded Jimmy. When no one answered, he went on. "Okay. First question is: what the heck is going on?"

"You machine is making monsters," Carl answered helpfully.

"Yes, but why? I only designed it to make people _think_ there were monsters. How could what people are thinking about become real? And just as important, why?"

Sheen, still smarting from Libby's insinuations, wasn't being very helpful. "Hey, it's your machine. You tell us."

Jimmy's voice sounded very old. "I can't."

"Well," Libby said thoughtfully, "does it matter? Why not just turn the thing off?"

"I can think of one good reason," answered Miss Fowl. "Anyone who comes near that thing is going to create whatever they're afraid of."

"_No problema_," said Sheen. "It doesn't affect Carl. Let's send him to do it."

"No way," was Jimmy's emphatic reply. "If he doesn't know exactly how to shut the device off he could get hurt – or worse. And Miss Fowl is right. Anyone else would unleash more horrible things. And the closer they got, the worse they would be."

"But we're the good guys!" Sheen said. "The good guys always beat the bad guys, even if the bad guys are bigger and stronger and can pull your eyes out and snap your spine like a –"

"Zip it, Sheen!" Libby snapped.

"I appreciate your optimism, Sheen," Jimmy said quietly. "But as Damon Runyon once said –"

Libby, Sheen, and Carl spoke together. "Who?"

"Damon Runyon."

"I know Matt Damon," said Libby. "But who's this Runyon guy?"

"I know!" called out Carl in excitement. "He's that lumberjack guy with the big blue ox who made…paper towels…I think."

Miss Fowl's voice was scornful. "That's Paul Bunyan."

"Didn't Paul Bunyan make those shoe things for your feet?" Carl asked.

A steady, rhythmic thumping was heard. Sheen leaped to his feet in alarm. "It's the mummies at the door!" he cried out. "They've found us! They're trying to get in!"

"No, Sheen," Jimmy answered between the thumps. "It's just me, pounding my head against my desk and trying to wake up from this nightmare of illiteracy."

"Now, Jimmy," Miss Fowl reproached him, "Not everyone has heard of Damon Runyon. That was quite while back."

"Yeah, Jimmy," Carl agreed. "We're not all as old as Miss Fowl."

A vicious growl could now be heard from somewhere in the darkness and Sheen fidgeted nervously. "Oh, no," he whimpered. "The mummies have teamed up with werewolves. We're doomed!"

"No, Sheen," Miss Fowl answered in a strained tone. "It's just me, figuring out how much detention to give Ca-a-arl once we get out of this mess!"

"But who is this Damon Runyon guy?" Carl insisted.

"He was a writer. Some Hollywood movies were based on his stories, like _A Pocketful of Miracles_, _Guys and Dolls_…"

"I know that one!" Sheen called out in excitement. He began singing off-key,

_"I got the horse right here_

_And though his name's not clear_

_I can tell you all about him if you wanna hear,_

_Can do. Can do –"_

Libby clapped her hands over her ears. "Can we have the mummies back instead?"

"If we can get back to the subject at hand," Jimmy interjected, "another reason we can't just shut off the Phobifier 5000 is because it wouldn't necessarily get rid of any of these things that are already here."

Libby sighed. "Well, I'm out of ideas."

"Same here," agreed Sheen dismally.

"Me, too," added Miss Fowl.

"If only Cindy were here," Carl said sadly. "She might be able to think of something we haven't."

"Yes," Jimmy agreed. "Cindy might…" His voice trailed off. "Wait a minute. Cindy." There was a brief pause as Jimmy thought about it. "Cindy is the key. That could be it. That must be it! Why didn't I think of it before?"

There came a long silence and the other began to fidget impatiently. "Well, don't just leave us hanging, Jimmy," Libby said at last. "What are you thinking?"

There was no answer.

"Come on, come on, Jimmy," urged Miss Fowl uncertainly. "You're starting to scare us. And that's not really a good thing at the moment."

When no answer came Libby stood up and headed to the light switch. "I don't care if something comes by," she said angrily. "I want to see what's what, all." There was the sharp snap of a switch and the classroom lights came on, causing them all to blink as their eyes adjusted to the unaccustomed brilliance. When they could see again Carl, Libby, Sheen, and Miss Fowl gasped.

Jimmy was nowhere to be seen.

End of Chapter 8

Author's Notes:

It's generally accepted that a good horror story (or pseudo-horror story) should lighten the tone from time to time. The theory is that after a while of unrelenting seriousness people are fatigued by what's going on and stop caring about how it will turn out. Good or bad, they just want it to end, and if need be will end it themselves by walking away.

The Damon Runyon adage that Jimmy was going to allude to can be found in a book by Paul Dickson called "The Official Rules" under "Runyon's Law". The rule, which paraphrases Ecclesiastes 9:11, states, "The race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, but that's the way to bet."

As to what Sheen was singing you'd have to listen to the lyrics from real song in _Guys and Dolls_ to get it. There was a Broadway revival of the show a few years ago starring Matthew Broderick so people younger than Miss Fowl might be familiar with it.

Page 6 of 6


	9. Chapter 9 Mind Games

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Chapter 9:

Sheen, Libby, Carl, and Miss Fowl gathered around Jimmy's desk and cautiously felt the air, as if expecting to find something unseen yet tangible in Jimmy's place. They quickly determined that Jimmy's seat was, in fact, empty. "Okay, I'm officially creeped out," said Sheen.

"I don't get it," said Libby. "Where did he go?"

"Maybe he went out the door," suggested Carl.

Miss Fowl shook her head. "We'd have heard the door open if he had," she said. "It's like he vanished into – bra-a-awk – thin air!"

Libby stubbornly refused to accept that explanation. "No way. That's impossible. There's no way he could have just disappeared."

Carl, trying to be helpful, pointed out, "He just did."

"Okay," said Sheen. "Let me make sure I've got this straight." He began ticking off his fingers. "There's a machine out there that's creating the monsters we're most afraid of. Jimmy is the only chance we have of shutting it down and getting rid of what's already here. And now Jimmy has vanished without a trace." He looked down at his hand. "I have one finger and a thumb left. Is there anything else?"

"We have no idea what happened to Cindy," reminded Libby.

"And we didn't make any money for the field trip so we have to come to class on Tuesday," Carl added.

"Right. It's official then," said Sheen. He sighed heavily before screaming shrilly, "This is the worst nightmare ever!"

Sheen's outburst had barely finished when there was a dull thud as the door to the room shook from a heavy blow. Everyone looked startled and then at each other. "Actually, I think that _this_ is probably the worst nightmare ever," ventured Miss Fowl.

"I second that emotion," agreed Libby unhappily. "Where's Jimmy?"

As Miss Fowl and Jimmy's friends wondered where Jimmy had gone Cindy continued to toss in fitful sleep. The anguish she felt had ebbed but, despite Lou's promises, she was not yet free from its grip. "You said it would be gone," she told him. "Why isn't it working?"

Lou's easy smile did nothing to ease the pain. "Give it time," he assured her. "It will all be over soon."

"What will?"

Lou leaned closer and his voice was barely a whisper. "Everything. All your fears...and the source of those fears."

"I don't understand." The throbbing in her temples made thinking difficult. "What did you do?"

"Me?" Lou sounded surprised. "I had nothing to do with it. You did it all."

The answer still meant nothing to Cindy. "Did what?"

"Don't you know? Releasing your fear was the first step," replied Lou. "And Jimmy's phobifier will do the rest." He leaned back against the bench on which he and Cindy were sitting. "It's actually quite an interesting device. I wish I had one. It identifies your fears and makes them real."

"That's impossible," Cindy objected feebly. "How can a… machine…make fears real?"

Lou's voice became uncharacteristically thoughtful. "A good point. What is reality anyway? Philosophers have been arguing about it for centuries. Is it out there somewhere for us to experience and discover?" Lou made groping motions with one hand. "Or is it in here, where perception actually occurs?" He tapped the side of his head. "Or is it some amalgam of both, with each affecting the other?" He shrugged and then grinned. "If you'd like to know what reality is, I'd be happy to tell you…for a small price."

Cindy shook her head viciously and immediately regretted it when it felt to her as though a knife had slice through her head. "I just want to know what's happening."

Lou's voice once again assumed its pragmatic tone. "I told you. You've released your fear, and now the phobifier will remove the source."

Cindy spent what seemed ages to her processing the equation. Something didn't quite add up and she found herself coming back to the start. "You said that Jimmy's machine makes fears real," she said tentatively.

"That's right. Well, as humans understand reality."

"And Jimmy is what I'm afraid of? He's the source of it all?" she asked, studying Lou's face.

Lou shifted uncomfortably but said nothing.

"But…" The pain was increasing again. "Jimmy's already real." She clutched her head as she force the words out, trying desperately to maintain her chain of reasoning. "How can it create something that already exists?"

Lou's voice, which had been so reasonable and reassuring, suddenly sounded insistent and harsh. "It's too complicated for you to understand. You just have to trust me."

"No!" Cindy gasped out. She clenched her eyes tightly to shut out the pain and the voice that she no longer trusted. "If Jimmy is really what I'm afraid of, why isn't he here? How can it be over when Jimmy is real?"

Lou still tried to reason with her. "You're asking for answers you can't possibly understand."

"All I want…is…the truth…" she sobbed out.

"The truth? You want the truth?" Lou crouched down so that his lips were next to her ear. The hiss of his breath on her check made Cindy shudder. "The truth is that you can't handle the truth. You've spent your life running away from the truth. And now the truth is what is going to destroy everything that matters to you."

"I don't understand," Cindy whimpered unhappily. "What is the truth?" She curled up on the bench and buried her face in her arms. "Someone tell me. Please…tell me..."

The voice she heard was as unexpected as it was familiar. "Cindy?"

Surprised, Cindy looked up. "Neutron?" She looked about in bewilderment for Lou but saw only Jimmy who appeared as confused as she felt. "Is that you? What are you doing here?"

Jimmy looked mildly annoyed. "That's what I'd like to know. A few minutes ago I was in Miss Fowl's classroom and now I'm here – wherever that is."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Cindy demanded. "We're in Retroville."

"No, we aren't." Jimmy shook his head emphatically. "I don't know where we are, but it definitely isn't Retroville. I know Retroville."

Jimmy's smug attitude was as irritating as ever to Cindy. "So do I, Neutron."

"Really?" Jimmy pointed to the streetlight near the bench. "What about this streetlight?"

"What about it?"

"It should be halfway down this block. I know, because I've seen it before and I remember everything. That bench you're on shouldn't even be here. And did you notice the shadows?"

Cindy felt as though Jimmy were laying some elaborate trap for her. "What shadows?"

"Exactly," Jimmy answered. "There aren't any." He waited for Cindy to look about and realize that this was the case before going on. "This isn't Retroville. It's more like some memory of Retroville. All the major features are right, but all the little details are missing or wrong. Like the number of windows on the front of the school, and the names on the street signs. It's kind of like when the Brains tried to fool us into thinking we were in Retroville."

As much as she hated to admit it Cindy decided that Jimmy was making sense and was probably right. "So where are we?"

"Well, if I had to guess I'd say we're somewhere inside your mind." He looked around. "Interesting. Somehow I thought it would be a lot smaller than this and have a lot more baggage lying around."

Cindy ignored the insult. "Wait a minute. What makes you think we're inside my mind?"

"A few things. First, you didn't know that this wasn't Retroville so it makes sense that it matched what you remembered about it. That suggests that it's probably a creation of your mind. Second, I just got here. How long have you been here?"

"A while," Cindy admitted.

"I thought so. You asked me what I was doing here so it seemed logical that you were here before I was. Finally, I can't feel anything. It's like I'm numb all over. How about you?"

Cindy considered it and answered, "I have a bad headache and feel a little cold."

Jimmy nodded. "That clinches it. If you can feel pain and cold then you're the person connected to what's creating this place. I'd say that we're both inside your mind."

The idea of Jimmy being inside her mind and privy to her inner thoughts didn't sit well with Cindy. "So how do I get you out of here?"

Jimmy started pacing and Cindy knew from long experience that he was doing some deep thinking. "First we have to figure out how I got in here. But I'll bet that it had something to do with my phobifier."

"You mean that machine that makes fears real?" Cindy asked.

Jimmy stopped and stared at her. "How did you know that?"

Cindy shrugged. "Someone in here told me about it. He left just before you showed up, apparently." She glared at Jimmy. "Does that have anything to do with what's been happening to me?"

"I'm afraid so." Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I've been thinking about it and apparently your irrational behavior –"

"I've never been irrational!" Cindy snapped, cutting Jimmy off.

Jimmy tried rewording the explanation. "Well, the reason you were so upset is because I think that the machine was on even before I meant to turn it on." Jimmy frowned. "It must have happened when Sheen was poking at it. That would explain what happened when I was installing it and testing it."

"But it's supposed to make people afraid, not angry," Cindy argued. "How do you explain that?"

"That's what was puzzling me for so long. Then I realized that people react to fear in different ways. Typically people exhibit a fear-flight response, when they run away from what frightens them. But another basic response is a fear-threat reaction. That's when fear causes the victim to become hostile towards the source that frightens them. What I don't get is why you were so angry at me. Or why I'm here now."

Cindy started to answer but thought better of it. "No idea."

"There must be some reason. Maybe you instinctively knew that the machine was responsible and you transferred your anger to me because I invented it."

"What difference does it make?" Cindy responded irritably. "Can we change the subject and figure out how to get you out of my head?"

"Hey, it's not my fault I'm here!" Jimmy objected. "Did you think I'd willingly pick this mind to be in?"

"Well, I was stuck in your mind for a while," Cindy shot back angrily. "That was no picnic for me either, so deal with it!"

"At least you had a choice!" Jimmy shouted in return. "I didn't!"

"I never had a choice!"  
"And why not?"

_"Because I didn't want to lose you!"_ Her words stunned Jimmy into silence and Cindy stared wildly at him, breathing heavily. After a few seconds she went on in a voice that, while calmer, was shaking with emotion. "Do you know what it's like to have one person be so much of your life and then to imagine your life without them? Who's saved your life and everything and everyone you've cared about time and again? Who's kept hope alive time after time when it should have died long ago?" She wiped her eyes. "Can you imagine a world without that person? How terrifying that is? Your machine was right, Neutron. I am afraid of you. But what I'm most afraid of is that someday you won't be there anymore. And that's why I'm afraid of you."

Jimmy had listened to all this with his mouth open. "I'm sorry," he said at last. "I wish I could tell you something to help."

For her part Cindy had been listening to an echo from the past even as she was finally facing her fear. In her mind she could almost hear Lou's icy voice again as it repeated her fears. _Remember, _y_ou can't always be there to save everyone,_ she heard him say. _No_, she could hear Jimmy reply, _but I can always be there to help my friends_. His simple statement swept over her like a warm wind removing a winter's chill and the fear and pain in her mind melted beneath it. She looked back at Jimmy and her voice seemed to take on a new strength.

"I think you already have," she replied.

End of Chapter 9

Page 5 of 5


	10. Chapter 10 Reality Bites

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Chapter 10:

Cindy stirred and opened her eyes. The hard surface of the bench on which she had been sleeping had made her stiff and sore, and she shivered from the slight chill in the air. She looked around her, trying to remember how she had gotten here, and noted with some annoyance that the streetlight that she had had been certain was next to the bench was halfway down the block, just as Jimmy had told her.

That memory triggered the release of others and she frowned as she recalled them. She had been dreaming, and in her dream she had met Jacques, Nick, and even Lou, of all people. It seemed so clear to her now that she should have recognized Lou and not trusted anything he had to say, but she had learned that reason played a very small role in dreams. She had even dreamt that Jimmy had been in her mind. _It's too bad about Jacques, though_, she thought. _It's been a while since -_

"That wasn't a dream," interrupted Jimmy's voice from inside her head.

Cindy gave a small scream and jumped. "Neutron?" she asked, both angry and incredulous.

"Who did you think it was?"

"What are you doing inside my head?" she demanded.

She heard Jimmy give a small sigh. "I thought we went over that. I'm here because my Phobifier 5000 put me in here."

"I thought it was all a dream," Cindy moaned, covering her face with her hands. "But it's my worst nightmare!"

"Exactly. The phobifier was able to interpret what you were most afraid off and transferred me inside your head. Either you were afraid of my not being around, or you were afraid of me, or both." Jimmy's voice became thoughtful. "Actually, I'm rather impressed at how efficiently it was able to reconcile the two."

"Will you stop being so scientific?" Cindy fumed. "How do we get you out of my head?"

"Like I said, we have to figure how I got into your head," Jimmy explained patiently. "I don't see how the phobifier could have done this. It's only supposed to work on thoughts and feelings."

Cindy stopped before making a sarcastic reply as her conversation with Lou came back to her. "Lou told me something about that."

"Lou?" Jimmy's voice sounded astonished. "What were you doing dreaming about him?"

"Hey, I can't control what I dream about. Can you?"

There was a pause. "No. Not since my mom took away my subliminal projector when I was seven and said that...well, never mind." There was another pause. "What did Lou say?"

"Well, he essentially said that reality wasn't as clear-cut as most people think. Maybe it's on the outside, or maybe it's inside our heads, or maybe it's both. It sounded like a lot of double-talk to me." She shook her head despondently. "I guess I shouldn't have believed anything he said."

"With Lou, that's probably a good idea. But in this case…" Jimmy's voice trailed off. "I'm not so sure it was Lou. Maybe it was just your memories of Lou, because what he said makes a lot of sense."

Cindy scoffed. "Since when did you start believing in metaphysics?"

"No, really!" Jimmy insisted. "Scientists have discovered that perception and reality are very closely intertwined. Do you recall the double-slit experiment?"

Cindy shook her head, but for Jimmy's benefit said, "No. I have a life."

"It had to do with the duality of light. Some scientists thought it was a wave, and some thought that it was made of particles, so they experimented to find out. They shone light through two parallel slits and observed the patterns that created to determine if light was composed of waves or particles. They found out that the results depended on whether or not the behavior of the light could be observed."

"Are you saying that light acted differently when someone was watching?" Cindy found that hard to believe. "Maybe the measurements just messed things up. I mean, Heisenberg said you can't measure a system without affecting it."

"That's what the scientists thought," answered Jimmy. "But they found that it wasn't measuring the system that affected the outcome. It was whether or not the measured information could be accessed. In other words, being able to perceive what happened affected the outcome, not the measurements."

Cindy held her head. "My brain hurts."

"I don't blame you. But it fits in with my theory on the fundamental nature of matter. Think about it this way. Have you ever disagreed with Libby about what color something was?"

That got Cindy going. "Lots of times, actually. Just last week there was this teal scarf -"

"Hold that thought. Let's pretend that you think something is green and Libby thinks that something is blue –"

"Could we reverse that?" Cindy asked. "I kind of like blue better than green."

Cindy could almost visualize Jimmy rolling his eyes. "Fine. Let's pretend that there's something that you think is blue but that Libby thinks is green. You both decide to find out which. You invent something that measures blue and Libby invents something that measures green. That should settle it, right?"

"Uh…" Cindy looked for the trap her highly developed feminine intuition said was there but could found none. "Right."

"Wrong, for a couple of reasons. Because you and Libby think the same thing has different properties logic states that it must have both. All your experiment will do is verify that it has a blue property, and all Libby's experiment will prove is that it has a green property, just like you thought. And each of you thought what you thought because of your personal perceptions of what blue and green were. All the experiments would prove to each of you is that each of you was right."

Cindy wasn't ready to surrender without a fight. "Okay, so I'll make something that measures green and Libby will make something that measures blue."

"There's still the same problem. Each of you has ideas of what green and blue are when you build your machines to measure them. Your measurements will just prove to you that the other person is wrong, because your measuring devices aren't purely objective."

"'Heads I win, tails you lose'?" Cindy asked.

"Exactly," Jimmy confirmed. "Part of the problem with measuring reality is that everything we use was designed to measure something that we think may be there."

Cindy thought about that. "So, if someone believes the Universe is made of heat, and goes around measuring everything with a thermometer, he'll find out that he's right. But if another person believes the Universe is made of electricity and goes around measuring everything with a voltmeter, he'll find out that he's right as well."

"That's pretty much it," Jimmy agreed.

"But," Cindy objected, "that would mean that these monsters are real only because everyone believes that they're real."

"I know. If we could convince people they aren't real the monsters would go away. Probably."

"So how do we do that? Write a catchy jingle to convince people not to look at the monsters and they'll go away?"

Jimmy sighed. "We can't. Hey, is that a pony?"

Cindy looked around and then realized that Jimmy was referring to something in her head. "That's just Snowflake. Leave her alone."

"Could you concentrate on the problem at hand?" Jimmy asked impatiently.

"Excuse me, Nerd-tron. My mind tends to wander whenever you go on one of these long and boring dissertations." She banished the thoughts of the pony she never got and returned to what Jimmy had been saying. "Why can't we convince people that the monsters are a figment of their imaginations?"

"Because the operation of the phobifier is based on fear. You can't reason fear away any more easily than you can reason away faith or hope or…love," Jimmy concluded reluctantly.

Despite their circumstances Cindy was curious about the last part of Jimmy'statement. "Love?"  
"The only place love and logic go together is in Volume 8 of my encyclopedia," Jimmy said firmly. "Emotion and reason are two totally different things."

"You're hopeless," Cindy criticized. "So what do we do? Shut down the machine?"

"That would keep more monsters from showing up," Jimmy replied. "But that wouldn't get rid of the monsters that are already here. And getting up to the phobifier without creating more would be nearly impossible." Jimmy sighed. "If only I knew why the phobifier doesn't affect Carl so I could use it to get closer to the phobifier."

It was Cindy's turn to feel smug. "You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?"

Cindy shook her head in disbelief. "Carl is afraid of everything."

"I know that," Jimmy said impatiently. "So logically the phobifier should be churning out monsters by the truckload."

"And you call yourself a genius," Cindy said scornfully. "Carl is afraid of everything. That means fear is normal to him. Your machine can't lock on to anything because all his thoughts look the same!"  
Jimmy was stunned for a full five seconds. "You're right!" he exclaimed. "Why didn't I realize that before? But," he went on, "that means that we can't use that to our advantage. There's no way that one person can be afraid of everything. Other than Carl, I mean."

Cindy's voice suddenly sounded strange. "No," she agreed, "but there is one thing that everyone can be afraid of."

"And what's that?" Jimmy asked.

Cindy pointed down the street in the direction of the school where a dark and ominous shape had materialized. Even several blocks away its vast size and shape were unmistakable and Cindy couldn't help shivering as she saw its three vast eyestalks casting restlessly about, searching for a victim. A familiar shriek of raw fury issued from its monstrous throat. Even at this distance the sound was deafening to Cindy, and she clapped her hands over her ears as she instinctively averted her eyes from the sight.

"Poultra," she whispered.

End of Chapter 10

Author's Notes:

Although I didn't want to make this chapter a lesson in science or metaphysics I felt that some explanation of how the phobifier was affecting things was in order. Some of the explanations in this chapter stretch the concepts of quantum mechanics a bit, and should be taken with a grain of salt, but I figure that everything about Jimmy's science tends to push the envelope. Like another boy genius from another cartoon universe obvserved in another story of mine, "It's like this kid makes his own rules."

Fans of _The Simpsons_ will probably catch my allusion to an episode called "Attack of the 50-Foot Eyesores", a favorite of mine.

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	11. Chapter 11 Thanks for the Memories

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Chapter 11:

Jimmy could not believe he had heard Cindy correctly. "Did you say Poultra?"

"Yes," Cindy answered. "And since everyone in Retroville knows who Poultra is, I don't think we'll have much luck convincing anyone that she's just a figment of their imagination." As Cindy watched Poultra gave another echoing scream and lurched towards the bright lights of downtown Retroville. "Especially when she's having them for dinner."

"Oh, man," said Jimmy. "We have to do something!"

"Well, doy!" returned Cindy. "But what? Can't you for once invent a catastrophe that doesn't involve me? This is worse than when you switched our minds!"

"Hey, that wasn't my fault!" Jimmy objected. "The frequency of the encephalo-synthsizer was tuned to your brain. I couldn't help it if lightning hit the phone lines and initiated a simultaneous mind exchange!"

"Yeah, like nothing is ever your fault!" Cindy scoffed.

"Could we maybe concentrate on fixing the problem instead of the blame?" Jimmy asked.

"You're the genius," Cindy pointed out. "So you think of something."

"Okay, Jimmy," Jimmy muttered as he concentrated. "We need a solution here, so think. Think! Think!"

Nothing happened.

Jimmy was stunned and even Cindy was surprised. "Umm…is that it?" she asked tentatively.

"Gas planet!" Jimmy muttered. "I…I can't generate a brain blast."

"Well, considering that you're in my brain that shouldn't be a big surprise."

"In your brain…" Jimmy repeated. "That's it!"

"What's it?"

"You'll have to do it!"

Cindy was flabbergasted. "Me? But…but I don't know how! I mean, I can't …there isn't…" she spluttered.

Jimmy fought to reassure her. "Look, trust me on this. I'm just the passenger. You're the driver. Just close your eyes, clear your mind, and concentrate. You can do this."

_I can do this?_ Cindy thought. I _don't have Neutron's brain. How can I do this?_ Once, in a different reality, she had had a brain blast of sorts. But this was different. The entire city of Retroville was depending on this. How could she possibly succeed, even if Jimmy trusted her?

And even if Jimmy trusted her, did she trust Jimmy?

That, she suddenly realized, was the key. Her success did not depend on how much others trusted her. It was her own trust that would determine success or failure here. Trust in herself, trust in Jimmy, and trust, most of all, in the potential of human spirit.

"All right," she said, more to herself than to Jimmy. "Here goes. Think. Think! Think!"

Images and memories flashed through her mind, reflections of both her and Jimmy's experiences. As they passed, almost faster than she was aware of them, she knew somehow that Jimmy was evaluating them and searching for the vital clues that would provide a solution. As she concentrated some thoughts took shape in her mind.

_The frequency of the encephalo-synthesizer was tuned to your brain…._

_For every action there's an equal and opposite reaction…_

_Everyone is afraid of something…_

"Brain blast!" she heard Jimmy cry. "We're going to fight fire with fire!"

Cindy, still disoriented from the experience, tried to focus her thoughts again. "What?"

"The phobifier is producing things that people are afraid of because it's tuned to the general brain-wave frequencies of humans. In fact, because it was still tuned to your individual frequency from the last time I used the encephalo-synthesizer, it affected you faster and more strongly than anyone else. If we retune the phobifier to the brain-wave frequencies of the monsters, it will start generating the things that the monsters are afraid of!"

"Are you sure that the monsters have a brain-wave frequency?" Cindy asked.

"I'm positive," Jimmy insisted. "They're all products of the phobifier, so they must all be operating on its fundamental frequency. All we have to do is connect the amplification and feedback circuits to the main oscillator."

Still not entirely convinced, Cindy began walking towards the school. "And what will that do?"

"I'm not exactly sure," admitted Jimmy. "But it has to be better than leaving things the way things are now."

Cindy had no real answer to that and walked on in silence for a couple blocks. As they drew nearer to the haunted house, however, she began to worry. "Have you figured out a way to keep that thing from creating more monsters when we get near it?"

"Actually, yes," Jimmy said reluctantly. "But I can't really tell you what it is. I'm afraid that you're just going to have to trust me."

Cindy thought about how Jimmy had phrased that. Was he trying to make his invention get her to trust him? Was that possible? As she pondered this she was startled to realize that she wasn't in Retroville anymore. It was a sunny spring day, and she appeared to be on a country road lined with blossoming trees beyond which she could see vast open expanses of green meadows. In the branches that hung over her she could hear songbirds and the fragrance of their blossoms filled her nostrils. She continued to walk along, not really sure where she was headed.

"Hello, Cindy," she heard someone say. Just ahead of her she saw Jimmy in the shade of one of the trees. "Nice day for a walk."

"Yes," Cindy answered awkwardly. "Very nice."

Jimmy came forward with a smile she rarely saw but that always seemed to devastate her. "Mind if I join you?"

"Uh…" Cindy found it difficult to control her voice. "Join…yes…no…mind." She shook her head to clear it. "I mean, no, I don't mind at all."

Jimmy fell in beside her and they walked on. There was something familiar about all this although Cindy wouldn't quite put her finger on it. Was it a some distant memory? It all seemed so confusing. She became aware that Jimmy was holding her hand and the feel of his hand in hers confused her all the more. _Don't think_, a voice inside was telling her. _Just believe in the moment_. That was easy enough to do. The sun was warm and the touch of Jimmy's hand was warm and she wanted the moment to last forever.

At length they came to a bridge over a quiet brook and Jimmy paused in the middle, pulling her back to him when she walked past, not realizing he had stopped. She gave him a curious look, wondering why he had stopped. Then he pulled her closer to him, taking her into his arms, and she understood. For a long moment they looked into each other's eyes, hers emerald and his sapphire, trying to find answers to the questions that lay within them before, on one accord, they leaned closer and their lips finally met.

The kiss was soft and lingering, and Cindy felt as though she were floating, oblivious to everything but the gently press of Jimmy's lips on hers. There was no questioning the depth of love and affection that lay behind the kiss, and she let it sweep over her like a warm embrace. When the kiss ended she leaned back, looking into his face and smiling. Jimmy spoke first.

"Okay, we're through," he said.

Cindy looked confused. "What?" she asked, sounding annoyed.

"I said we're through. The phobifier is adjusted."

"What?" Cindy repeated, her annoyance changing to anger. As though waking from a dream she looked around and realized that her arms were around a pole rather than Jimmy and that she was high in the air on top of the haunted house. With a grunt of disgust she forward somersaulted off the pole onto the ground outside the exterior of the structure. "What was that all about, Neutron?" she demanded.

"I had to do something to keep your mind off what was going on so that the phobifier couldn't affect you," he explained. "So I…recalled that memory of yours about that country road when our minds were mixed together before. I thought that it would keep your mind off what was really going on and prevent the phobifier from working. And my plan worked," he concluded triumphantly, if somewhat feebly in the face of her anger..

Even though Cindy knew that circumstances had forced Jimmy to do what he had done she was furious. "Do you know," she ground out from between her teeth, "what you did to me?"

"Uh… I was kind of there," Jimmy replied. "I think I know."

"_Shut up!_" She took a deep breath before she went on. "There are some things that are personal. There are some things that no one – _no one_ – has any right to know about. If you weren't inside my own head I'd pound you to a pulp!"

"Don't you mean guacamole?" Jimmy asked weakly.

"I can't believe that you would do this to me! That you would violate me like this!" she raged. Her voice chilled to subfreezing temperatures. "No matter how this turns out, Neutron," she snarled, "once you get out of my head I never want to see you again!" With that Cindy stalked off, unhappily aware that she couldn't leave Jimmy behind as easily as the phobifier.

Somewhere within Cindy's mind Jimmy slumped down, equally unhappy. He knew that it had been the only certain way to keep Cindy's mind off any fears, and he had expected that she would be upset by the experience, but he had not anticipated the sheer intensity of her fury. Reason told him that Cindy's raw hatred towards him would be a small price to pay if his plan saved Retroville, but he began to understand that while reason could supply answers it could not provide any comfort for their consequences. He wondered listlessly whether his plan would even work.

_Now,_ he told himself without any enthusiasm, _let it work_.

End of Chapter 11

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	12. Chapter 12 Fighting Fear with Fear

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Chapter 12:

The door to Miss Fowl's classroom shook from another heavy blow. The severe pounding had gone on for some time now and the door, although badly battered, still held. Sheen looked at the desks piled in front of it with satisfaction. "I knew a barricade would work," he said proudly.

"Sheen," Libby explained patiently, "the door opens outward into the hall. The desks aren't doing anything to keep the door from caving inward."

Sheen considered that as he gave the door an appraising look. "Good door," he remarked.

There came another violent crash against the door, but the noise was somehow different this time. Another blow, accompanied by a creaking sound, gave the explanation. The severely overstressed wood was beginning to splinter under the persistent assault and the beginnings of a gaping hole had appeared. Instinctively everyone backed away into the furthest corner of the room in time to avoid a shower of wood chips and splinters.

"He-e-ere's Johnny," muttered Sheen as a pale face materialized in the doorway. A humorless smile crossed the face as it surveyed the small group, revealing long and extremely sharp fangs. "My mistake," corrected Sheen. "It's just that vampire again."

"Did you really believe you could escape me?" the vampire asked, in a voice devoid of emotion. "No prey ever escapes my clutches."

"Hey, wait a minute!" said Libby. "I thought vampires had to be invited before they could enter a building."

"I was invited," the undead replied, "by my friends, if not yours." He looked down the hallway and his mirthless smile faded into a look of impatience. "They should be here soon," he apologized.

"The mummies!" squawked Miss Fowl. "They must have let him in!"

"Big deal!" said Sheen. "I can at least take care of this guy." He swaggered towards the vampire. "Are you ready for some more garlic?"

"No," the vampire admitted. "Are you ready for your doom?" As Sheen drew nearer a figure wrapped in rotting bandages emerged from around the edge of the doorway and shambled towards Sheen. Sheen recoiled and began to backpedal as other mummies entered the room. "I'll have no more interference from you, you foul-mouthed fool," the vampire snarled. He turned to the mummies and pointed to the humans. "Take them, my friends. But leave the woman to me."

Obediently the bandaged creatures moved towards the group, splitting them up as Sheen, Carl, Libby, and Miss Fowl attempted to keep their distance. With Sheen successfully neutralized the vampire advanced on Miss Fowl, who huddled alone in a corner. "Feel funny…" she muttered, her face to the corner. "Head…spinning…"

"You needn't fear that," the vampire assured her. "Soon you will feel…nothing."

"Afraid?" Miss Fowl repeated, and the change in her voice caused the menacing undead to halt. "Maybe Winnifred Fowl is afraid. But not…" She suddenly turned and flipped over her startled adversary head to land lightly beyond him in a martial arts stance. "…Winnie the Vampire Slayer!"

The pale face of the vampire turned even whiter as Miss Fowl seized a pointer and snapped it in two, forming a thin but nonetheless sharp and lethal looking wooden stake. "The…the Slayer," the vampire stammered as Miss Fowl advanced on him. "You're just…a legend. You…you don't really exist! You're not real!"

"Really?" Miss Fowl answered coolly. "Then I guess your opinion is a little like this pointy thing." She easily parried the undead's desperate blows and then pivoted past his guard, driving the sharpened end of the pointer into his chest. "You shouldn't stake your life on it." She stood back and dusted off her hands as the vampire slowly crumbled, first into dust, and then into nothingess, before turning to help her students.

As Miss Fowl was battling the vampire Sheen was backing away from the mummy that menaced him. "Someone! Help!" he yelped as the shuffling creature slowly closed the remaining distance to him. Overcome with terror he shut his eyes tightly against his imminent doom and turned away as an inhuman claw reached out towards him.

Several sharp reports made him jerk involuntarily as he imagined the worst. When nothing actually happened he slowly opened one eye and then the other. The mummy who had threatened him was still standing before him, but its head was missing. As Sheen watched in bewilderment the creature's body swayed and fell over backwards, the remains shattering silently into nothingness as they hit the floor. Just beyond where the creature stood Sheen saw Libby, gripping two still-smoking guns.

Carl, who had seen the whole thing, was incredulous just the same. "Libby?" he asked. "What just happened?"

"Three up, three down." Libby calmly returned the guns to the holsters strapped to her hips. "Just another day's work for Libby Croft, the Tomb Robber." She gave the room a quick once-over and nodded in satisfaction. "It looks like this chamber's clear, but there's probably others around. Let's move."

Still not sure what was happening Sheen and Carl followed Libby and Miss Fowl's lead out the classroom and down the hall to the school entrance. As they emerged two masked and robed figures leapt silently from the shadows on either side of the entrance and confronted the group, cleaving bright arcs in the air with wickedly long, curved blades. Libby drew her weapons and Miss Fowl dropped into a defensive stance, but before either could move a long whip snaked between them and wrapped around the wrists of their assailants' sword arms. A quick jerk backward on the whip tore the swords from the attackers' hands and allowed Libby and Miss Fowl to deal with their disarmed foes. As with the vampire and mummies these quickly disappeared after being dispatched.

After the short fight Libby turned to see Sheen, wearing a worn leather jacket and battered fedora, calmly coiling the whip. Sheen gave Libby a crooked smile and pulled down on the brim of his hat. "Just another day's work for Indiana Sheen," he said in answer to her unspoken question. He stepped towards her, still smiling.

Libby regarded him coolly, but with a hint of coy interest. "Your reputation precedes you. You don't disappoint."

Sheen took another step towards her. "I never do. You?"

Miss Fowl shook her head and rolled her eyes as Libby shook her head and moved even closer. "Maybe we could get together compare notes, some time."

Before Sheen could reply Carl stepped in between them. "Where'd you get the hat?" he asked, as Libby and Sheen both gave him an annoyed look. "Can I have one?"

Elsewhere in Retroville similar scenes were taking place as the monsters pursuing their intended victims found themselves confronting their own worst fears instead. Outside their house Hugh and Judy Neutron turned to face the oozing nightmare that had pursued them from Lindbergh Elementary. Sensing something wrong, the monster hesitated as Judy marched towards it.

"Try to ruin our lawn and terrorize us with your acid, will you?" she demanded. "Well, I may not exactly be a genius, but Mighty Mom does happen to know a thing or two about chemistry from preparing three wholesome, nutritious meals every day." She extended her arms, revealing a spray gun in each hand. "Eat baking soda, you foul creature!" The creature writhed in torment as the powerful spray of soda neutralized its acidic secretions and enveloped it in a mass of choking foam. Slowly the pile dwindled and eventually disappeared, leaving no trace behind.

"Way to go, Sugar Booger!" Hugh exclaimed. "I should have remembered that myself."

"Our job here is done, Lint Boy," Judy replied dramatically. "Our house is once again safe and germ-free."

The two stood silently for a few moments, looking about them. "So, now what?" asked Hugh.

"I suppose the world will be safe for a few minutes," Judy answered. "Do you feel like a few moments of quality time in the Utility Closet of Solitude?"

Hugh took her arm and led her towards the house. "I thought you'd never ask."

At the Candy Bar several cornered children cowered as a group as the huge spider that had frightened Libby, or one much like it, moved towards them. It was interrupted by a voice from above.

"Hey, Daddy-Long-Legs!" the voice called. "You call yourself a web-spinner? I got your webbing right here, yeah!" Thin streams of silken material shot down, covering the spider's eyes and blinding it. Seconds later a rather rotund figure in a red and blue costume swung down beside it, seized it by one of its flailing legs, and tossed it away from the astonished children. "You might be the top bug somewhere else," he challenged the huge arachnid as he moved in to finish it off, "but you're up against the amazing Spider-Sam now, yeah!"

The children watched in amazement as the colorfully garbed figure made short work of webbing up and subduing the spider. When the monster had faded away and the masked hero had swung off, the young people looked at one another. "Who was that masked man?" one of them asked in awe.

Another shook her head in wonder. "I don't think we'll ever know," she answered in a hushed voice.

One after another the creatures that the phobifier had unleashed on the citizens of Retroville met their end, as the device that had brought them into being now created the means of their destruction. Carl's parents brought down a pair of werewolves with utensils from their wedding silverware set. A roaming ghost was sucked up by Mrs. Folfax wielding her portable vacuum cleaner. Mr. Estevez destroyed a gang of zombies with the rays of his sunlamp.

As calm and normalcy returned to the town Libby, Sheen, Carl, and Miss Fowl studied their surroundings with satisfaction. "I guess that wraps up just about everything," Sheen remarked as he pushed his hat back on his head.

"Just about," agreed Libby, holstering her guns.

"I'd say so," said Miss Fowl.

"Although," put in Carl, "I still wonder what happened to Jimmy." Before anyone could speculate on this an inhuman scream from Poultra echoed through the night. As it faded away Carl added, "I think we're going to need him."

End of Chapter 12

Author's Notes:

With a story like this the individual battles could take chapters to relate. Rather than bog things down I thought it was simpler (and hopefully more effective) to use the time-honored device of detailing a few fights and quickly summarizing the rest to give a little more depth. It loses something in the scope but helps the story move along a bit more quickly.

Page 4 of 4


	13. Chapter 13 A Dolt From the Blue

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Chapter 13:

It was almost inevitable that the military would become involved with the odd happenings in Retroville. At first the skeptical military liaison officer obtained some respite from the incessant phone calls by referring the frantic callers to the business offices of _Fangoria._ But when the callers learned 1) that the business offices were closed, and 2) what _Fangoria_ actually was, he was soon overwhelmed by the same callers, no less frantic but far more irate. Not knowing what else to do the officer passed the calls on to his superior, who in turn forwarded the calls further up the chain of command. In time the situation came to the attention of none other than General Ernest Abercrombie through his long-suffering aide.

Most military officers would have dismissed the reports immediately as nonsense, but the general had learned firsthand that odd things could and did happen in Retroville. On the other hand, he had more than once taken action only to find that the reports were either wildly exaggerated or apparently complete fabrications. He slowly drummed his fingers on his desk as he mulled over the reports.

"Vampires, you say?" he asked at last.

The lieutenant riffled through the sheaf of papers in her hand for confirmation before answering. "Yes, sir."

"And mummies, as well?"

"So we've been told, sir," she answered stiffly.

"And werewolves, too." The thoughtful look crossed the general's face. "Wild blue yonder, lieutenant! Do you know what this means?"

The lieutenant looked hopeful. "That it's a massive hoax of some kind that we can ignore and then go home?" she asked.

The general stood up and put his hands behind his back. "That's what they'd like you to think. But vampires come from Eastern Europe. Mummies hail from the Middle East. And werewolves come from…well, I don't know exactly but I'd bet my last star that they aren't from the good old U. S. of A." He pounded his fist on the disk. "This all adds up to a full-scale invasion, lieutenant."

The aide tried to follow the reasoning of her commanding officer and once again failed miserably. "Sir?"

"It's all very clear now," General Abercrombie went on. "These creatures are nocturnal and the perfect choice for a night strike." He paused and looked closely at the lieutenant. "Is there something in your eye, soldier?"

The lieutenant shook her head. "Just a nervous tic, sir."

"Better have that checked out. You seem to have those every time I see you, lately. What was the last monster reported?"

"Uh…" His aide checked her notes again. "A large chicken."

"Hmm…" The general considered it. "Any other details?"

"Reports say that it was between 50 and 100 feet tall."

General Abercrombie shook his head. "Then it's definitely not one of ours. We'd better get a chopper and check this out, pronto."

The lieutenant's heart sank. "We?"

"Absolutely. Some field duty will do wonders for that tic of yours. And while we're en route we can listen to my latest copy of _Yodeling to the Oldies 3_." He peered at the young lieutenant, who was now rubbing the sides of her head and wishing again that she had gone to the Naval Academy in Anapolis. "And the fresh air would probably help that headache of yours."

So it was that the two officers found themselves in the skies over Retroville about the same time that Libby, Carl, Sheen, and Miss Fowl made their way to the general area of Poultra's rampage. All of them, with the exception of Carl, were aghast to see the return of the giant fowl. As they were gaping at the huge beast Cindy and a number of other citizens of Retroville, who had also attracted by the noise, arrived on the scene.

"Cindy! Where you been, girlfriend?" Carl asked when he spotted her.

"Don't even ask," Cindy snorted. She gave the others a long look, temporarily oblivious to the monstrous chicken. "What's with the get-ups? Is it actually Hallowe'en now?"

Carl shrugged. "I don't know. There was this vampire but he got real scared because Miss Fowl became this vampire slayer. Then Libby shot all these mummies that came after us and when these guys with swords jumped out Sheen took care of them with his whip." He looked oddly pensive. "It was actually kind of interesting. Do you think that anyone would want to see a movie about any of this stuff?"

Cindy didn't answer the question, thinking instead about something that Carl had said. "Did you say the vampire was afraid of Miss Fowl?"

"Oh, yeah," he nodded vigorously. "It was kind of weird, because it was like he thought she was like a bad dream or something."

_The changes to the phobifier are working_, Cindy thought. _I guess that big-brained buttinksi did it after all_. "Did you hear that, Nerd-tron?" she asked aloud. "Satisfied?" There was no answer. "Neutron?" she repeated. "Hello?"

"Who are you talking to?" asked Libby, who had finally noticed that Cindy was there.

Cindy looked doubtful. "No one, I guess," she replied slowly.

"Where have you been, anyway?" Libby wanted to know. "Do you know what's been going on here?"

"One, you don't want to know. And two, yes, I do. Neutron found out that his dorky invention at the haunted house was making these monsters so he changed it to create whatever these monsters are afraid of." Cindy gazed at the large form of Poultra, who was continuing to wreak havoc several block away. "Is this the only thing left?"

Sheen shrugged. "I haven't seen anything for a while."

"Nor me," agreed Libby.

"I haven't either," added Miss Fowl.

"Ditto that," said a round figure in a masked blue-and-red costume, who swung down from above to join them. "This looks like the last thing to take down." He eyed the behemoth speculatively. "That is one big chicken, yeah," he commented.

Cindy frowned at him. "Sam?"

The figure started. "Uh…yeah. Yeah. Your friendly, neighborhood Spider-Sam, that's me."

"No, I mean –" Cindy began, but Sheen interrupted her.

"So how do we take this thing down?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Cindy admitted. "There has to be something around that Poultra is afraid of that phobifier would create. Whatever that is can defeat her. But what would Poultra be afraid of?"

"Well," Libby speculated, "it would have to be something that she knows could take her down."

"Yeah, yeah, sure," said Spider-Sam. "But what would that be?" They all thought back on their previous personal encounters with Poultra to determine what the phobifier might create to defeat this final threat.

"Jimmy," said Sheen at last.

"Jimmy," agreed Miss Fowl.

"Definitely Jimmy," nodded Spider-Sam.

"I'd say Jimmy," said Libby.

"Colonel Chicken," offered Carl. "With his secret recipe and that extra crispy coating…" The others stared at him and he wilted. "Okay, Jimmy," he conceded.

Miss Fowl asked the obvious question. "But where is Jimmy?" She had not directed that question to anyone in particular but Cindy still felt that everyone was looking at her. At first she thought that her fury had driven Jimmy to silence, but now it seemed less and less likely that he was still inside her head. If Poultra really were afraid of Jimmy, the phobifier could have taken him out of her mind as easily as it had put him in. But if that were the case, where was he? Had her emotions somehow interfered with getting him out safely? Or had the process that had put him into her mind been irreversible?

High overhead and unseen by any of the crowd below the Air Force helicopter circled the giant chicken. General Abercrombie gave a low whistle. "This is definitely not a rumor, lieutenant," he called above the noise of the rotors.

"But what are we going to do about it, sir?" his aide shouted back.

"The only thing a soldier does in the face of a determined enemy," the general replied grimly. "We attack."

"Attack? With what?"

The general gave her a determined look. "An all-out missile strike. Let's scramble the jets."

"But there are people down there!" the lieutenant objected. "If one of the missiles goes wide –"

"You can't spell 'missile' without 'miss', lieutenant," General Abercrombie said grimly. "Things like that happen."

"I strongly recommend that we consider another course of action, sir!"

"Recommendation noted. Now let's call in those jets. We already paid for them. Might as well get some use out of them while they still have some resale value left."

The lieutenant tried one more time. "Sir, can we at least notify the civilians to evacuate the area before we call in the jets? Give them time to get to a safer area?"

The general sighed. "I don't know about your tactics, lieutenant. The book says never to do anything predictable and evacuation sounds just like what that crowd would be expecting us to do." He looked sharply at his aide, who was now viciously banging her helmeted head against the side of the cabin. "Still have that headache?"

"Yes," she answered, but quickly got back to the subject. "I'm pretty sure that those tactics were for situations involving the enemy."

The general scanned the crowd below. "They aren't wearing our uniforms," he noted. "Are you sure that they're all ours?"

"Positive, sir," she stated emphatically. "Except for the giant chicken," she added.

The general nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Well, all right. Let's set her down and get the civilians out of here first. But after that the jets come in hard and fast. I'm going to turn that prodigious piece of poultry into more pieces that a Colonel Chicken's Dinner Deal."

End of Chapter 13

Page 4 of 4


	14. Chapter 14 The Rescuers

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Chapter 14:

Inside the haunted house, not far from the location of the phobifier where everything had begun, Jimmy stirred restlessly as he wandered aimlessly in uneasy dreams. From far away he could hear familiar voices calling, but the words were too faint for him to make out clearly. As he regained consciousness by degrees he became aware that the voices he thought he had heard were actually the inhuman sounds of some enormous beast shrieking in the distance. He lay there, wondering what the source of the cries could be, and the memories of what had happened came flooding back.

_Poultra!_ he thought. He struggled to his feet in a daze and stumbled through the dark passage towards the entrance. His head ached, and he paused for a moment at the entryway to collect his scattered thoughts. It was still night, but the moon was rising high enough to throw some light on the dark surroundings and let him get his bearings. The bestial cries had come from the direction of downtown Retroville, and day or night Jimmy knew there would be people there for Poultra to menace.

As he leaned against the frame of the haunted house, he reflected on the events that had brought things to this dire situation. All of it, he knew, was because of the phobifier – _his_ phobifier – and if anything happened it would be his fault. It was his responsibility to fix things. He had hoped that retuning the phobifier would somehow reverse the process that had created the monsters that were loose in Retroville, but his hopes had been in vain. He would have to deal with Poultra alone. But how?

He thought back on his past encounters with Poutra, searching for a clue. This monstrosity was not the real Poutra, he knew, but as the product of someone's imagination it should have the same weaknesses and fears of the original. Maybe that was the answer. He activated his wristcomp.

"Goddard?" The image of his robotic dog appeared on the screen and barked. "I know it's late, but I need you. Meet me at the vending machine on the corner of Hall and Oates. We have a town to save."

In town the military helicopter had landed and General Abercrombie's aide was using the aircraft's public address system to address the crowd. "Citizens of Retroville!" she announced. "Military assistance is on the way and there is a chance of serious injury to anyone remaining in this area. We ask that you disperse and return to your homes until further notice. What's that?" Some unintelligible words from the general could be heard coming from the loudspeaker, followed by the clearer, albeit outraged, voice of the lieutenant. "No, I will not tell them we'll open fire if they don't! We're trying to protect these people, not just clear the area!" More unintelligible mumblings followed before the general's aide continued. "Yes, I will have it my way, General. Citizens of Retroville!" she went on. "Please disperse immediately. This is for your own safety." There was a pause. "Really. I mean that."

The crowd began to drift away and Sheen gave a sigh of relief. "Well, as everybody knows, once the military is in complete control everything will be fine once again."

"Yeah, right," Cindy snorted. "Are you forgetting what happened when we all got super powers?"

"Or when I became a 50-foot tall vegetable women?" added Miss Fowl.

Libby nodded thoughtfully. "Jimmy really pulled our fat out of the fire those times. I sure wish I knew where he was. I keep thinking that he'd find a way to deal with this oversized crispy strip."

Carl suddenly pointed up in the air. "Look! Up in the sky!"

"It's a bird," Sheen cried.

Carl punched him. "Not that way!" he scolded. "That's just Poultra." He gestured again. "That way!"

"It's a plane," Sheen corrected himself as he squinted in the direction Carl was pointing.

"No," Libby called excitedly. "It's Jimmy!"

Sheen squinted again. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Cindy said sourly, unable to keep the anger out of her voice. "What the heck is he doing here?"

"It looks like he's headed for Poultra," observed Miss Fowl.

Cindy made a noise of disgust. "What? Why? Doesn't he know the military is dealing with it?"

Libby shook her head. "Apparently not."

High overhead Jimmy and Goddard sped towards Poultra, who was pecking gaping holes in the sides of the tall buildings in a search for prey. "Hey, feather-head!" Jimmy yelled as he closed the distance. "Remember me?"

Poultra turned in the direction of the strident call and all three eyes glowered in malevolent recognition. With a scream of hatred the giant fowl lunged at her approaching foe and snapped at him like another bird might at an irksome fly. Jimmy and Goddard nimbly dodged the attack and circled around for another pass.

"You do remember me," Jimmy called out. "That's good." _It _was_ good_, he told himself. The fact that Poultra remembered him meant that she would also remember something else he had brought. "Because there's someone I want you to meet." Jimmy reached down and pulled a brightly colored object from his pocket. "Say hello to my little friend!"

Poultra suspiciously regarded the object in Jimmy's hand, and slowly her baleful stare dissolved into a look of fear. Her three eyestalks recoiled in terror as she recognized the can of Purple Flurp and the consequences of her last experience with the carbonated substance. Flapping her vestigial wings in panic she wheeled around and tried to flee, but Jimmy and Goddard were too quick for the giant chicken-beast. They headed her off, forcing her to spin and try another direction. The few remaining onlookers below watched with mixed curiousity and wonder as Jimmy's maneuvers kept Poultra spinning in a futile effort to escape.

"What is he trying to do?" asked Carl. "Teach her how to dance?"

"No," Libby answered as the truth dawned on her. "He's using Purple Flurp to panic her. I think that he's trying to scare her to death!"

"The big show-off," sneered Cindy. "I could have thought of that."

"Well," Sheen pointed out, "if he does succeed at least we won't need those jet fighters they're sending in to stop Poultra."

Cindy's look of irritation changed to one of shock. "What did you say?" she demanded.

"What?" Sheen asked, puzzled.

"What did you say? About the fighters?"

"I said we wouldn't need them." Sheen shrugged. "It's too bad. They should be here in just a few minutes and it would have been great show."

Cindy look towards the sky, worried. Sure enough, she thought that she could see two points of light moving slowly across the sky towards them. Nightmare memories of a world that could have been returned to her and she looked up at the massive figure of Poultra. "Neutron doesn't know about the fighters," she said. "And they don't know about him. If the missiles hit Poultra when he's that close to her…" She let the sentence trail off and grabbed Spider-Sam's arm. "Come on!" she shouted. "We've got to warn him! You others get to the general!"

"What are we supposed to do?" asked Libby.

"Get him to stop those jets from attacking!" Cindy called back as she and her costumed companion dashed off down the street.

Miss Fowl looked at the helicopter which was beginning to ascend. "But he's already taking off!" she protested. "How are we supposed to get to him?"

In response Sheen pulled the brim of his hat down low over his eyes. "Leave that to me," he said. He began running towards the aircraft with Miss Fowl, Libby, and Carl in close pursuit. By the time they reached the site of the chopper it was already more than a dozen feet in the air and Sheen leaped up, throwing this bullwhip forward as he did so. The lash wrapped around the helicopter's landing skid and pulled Sheen upward. Miss Fowl launched Libby towards Sheen with a quick boost and followed her up with a tremendous leap of her own. The helicopter rose into the sky with Sheen clinging to his whip, Libby holding on to Sheen's legs, and Miss Fowl clutching to Libby's feet. Carl watched them go, wheezing from exertion.

"Okay," he panted. "I'll just…wait here."

"What now?" Libby yelled up to Sheen over the noise of the rotors.

"I don't know," Sheen shouted back. "I'm making this up as I go."

"That's all right," Miss Fowl reassured them. "Just get me up there and leave the general to me."

Cindy and Sam, in the meantime, had made it to within a couple blocks of Poultra but found that the monstrous chicken's erratic movements made it impossible to get any closer. Cindy looked about her for inspiration, and two streetlamps on either side of the street gave her an idea. "Sam!" she called. "Just how strong is that webbing of yours?"

"Pretty strong," he replied. "And it's Spider-Sam, yeah."

Cindy gestured towards the lightposts. "I need you to spin a band of webbing between those two poles."

The portly superhero moved to comply. "Just what do you have in mind?" he asked her.

"You're going to slingshot me up to Neutron," she said. "If I'm lucky Goddard will be able to catch me and set us both down safely."

Sam paused in the midst of fabricating the belt of webbing. "And if you're not?"

"Then I guess I end up like a fly on a windshield," she admitted. She shuddered. "Just hurry up and get this over with before I change my mind."

Spider-Sam completed the job and waited for Cindy to take her position in the middle of the improvised slingshot. "Look Cindy," he said, "maybe I should be the one to do this. I mean, with my spider-powers nothing much should happen if I miss."

"No," Cindy replied. "I need you to pull the slingshot back and launch me. You couldn't pull the slingshot back far enough to shoot yourself that far."

Sam eyed the distance and was forced admit that Cindy was right. "Okay," he said reluctantly. "Take your place. And good luck."

Sam had woven a seat of sorts into the giant elastic band and Cindy settled into it as he began drawing it back. The silken material creaked as Sam stretched it ever further, grunting with exertion with each additional step he took. Finally he stopped with the muscles of his arms taut from the strain of resisting the force of the slingshot. "As far as…I can go," he gasped out. "Ready?"

Cindy gulped. "Ready," she answered, her voice even.

Sam nodded. "Okay, then. I'll try…for a…good shot." He waited for wait seemed like years to Cindy before he finally called out, "Okay…now!" He released the band, sending Cindy rocketing into the air towards Jimmy and the monster. "Good luck, kid," he said. "Yeah."

Back on the helicopter Miss Fowl and Libby had crawled up over Sheen and shinnied up the whip towards the entry hatch of the helicopter. When they were both on the relative safety of the runner Sheen pulled himself hand over hand up to join them. "Let's see you do that with a gun," he smirked at Libby as he carefully coiled the whip and returned it to his belt.

"Let's see you do this with a whip," Libby retorted. She flung the hatch open and dove through, rolling to her feet again in one easy motion with a gun drawn and in each hand. "All right, gentlemen," she said to the startled occupants. "Let's get on the radio and call off those jets."

General Abercrombie and his aide stared at the sight of a pre-teen girl confronting them with semi-automatic weapons, backed by a gangly boy and his old grade school teacher. "Is this some sort of joke?" the general demanded at last.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Miss Fowl snapped.

"Well, actually, it's hard to say," the general replied. "I can't remember if you ever joked when I was in your class."

"That's because I never did," Miss Fowl sniffed ominously. "And you know what else I've never done?"

General Abercrombie considered it. "What's that?"

Miss Fowl leaned forward with a sinister smiled. "I never bluff." She turned to the others and said, "Children, do you want to hear what the general's nickname was in school, and how he got it?"

General Abercrombie's face turned red and he made strangling noises. "You wouldn't dare!" he finally got out.

Miss Fowl regarded him calmly. "Try me."

The general's aide finally spoke. "What is it you people want?" she asked.

"We need you to call off your attack," Libby hastened to say. "If those jets attack Poultra, the missiles might also hit one of our friends."

"Forget about the attack," Sheen said eagerly. "What's this about the general's nickname?"

"Well, General?" Miss Fowl asked.

The general stood stock-still, clenching and unclenching his fists and chewing his lower lip. "All right," he conceded at last. "You win. Lieutenant, call off the air strike."

The general's aide switched on the radio and began transmitting. "Brass Hat to Strike Force Alpha," she intoned. "Abort attack. Repeat. Abort attack. We –" She broke off at the sight of two unmistakable points of light that appeared in the sky above them. She watched the missiles streaked through the sky towards their target in the streets of Retroville below before turning to the others. "We're too late," she finished.

End of Chapter 14

Author's Notes:

I apologize the time it's taken to get these last few chapters out. The demands of the "real world" have been unusually heavy of late. In addition, towards the end of each fan fiction I begin working on ideas for the next story and that always takes time to do. Hopefully things will go fairly quickly from here on out.

Page 5 of 5


	15. Chapter 15 A Game of Chicken

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Chapter 15:

The flight upwards was nothing like Cindy had expected. She had assumed it would be similar to one of the thrill rides at Retroland, but none of them had prepared her for the acceleration imparted by Spider-Sam's giant slingshot. Only astronauts and fighter pilots experience anything similar to what Cindy did, and only with special training and equipment. Cindy had neither and she immediately blacked out as the blood rushed from her brain. Fortunately for her the slingshot had, by chance or design, oriented her so that the terrible force was spread uniformly over her body. Had it not been, her neck could have snapped like the proverbial twig.

Near the apex of her trajectory, as the acceleration tapered off and the blood could again return to her head, she revived and found herself hurtling through the air towards Poultra. Unlike Jimmy and Goddard she was simply a projectile and had no choice in where she would land nor the path she would follow to get there, and sp did the only thing she could. "Neutron!" she yelled.

There was too much noise for Jimmy to hear, but Goddard's electronic senses were far more sensitive than human hearing and even the canine ears that they were designed to emulate. He looked back and Jimmy and barked.

"What is it, boy?" Jimmy asked.

In response Goddard circled away from Poultra and assumed the classic pointing stance of a hunting dog. Jimmy followed his point, saw the small form hurtling upwards towards the giant chicken, and recognized it for who it was. Goddard barked again.

"Gas planet!" Jimmy muttered in surprise and annoyance. "What is she doing here?" Goddard simply shook his head at the rhetorical question. Jimmy sighed, torn between going to her assistance and continuing his harassment of Poultra but knowing that there was really no choice. "Come on," he sighed. "Let's go get her."

They swept down in an arc intended to bring them to an intercept course with Cindy, with Goddard carefully adjusting his speed and direction to match hers as they drew together. He did this so well that Cindy was able to step aboard as thought they were both standing motionless on the ground. Because Jimmy's Flycycle design had only one seat Cindy was forced to sit side-saddle across his lap. Cindy noted Jimmy's sour look and gave him one of her own.

"I'm not enjoying this either, Neutron," she said.

"Just what do you think you're doing here?" he growled.

"I didn't have much of a choice," she snapped back. "You're in trouble."

Jimmy bristled at this. "Hey, I had everything under control until you showed up!" he shot back. "I can handle Poultra without your help!"

"Oh, yeah?" she retorted, pointing down the street. "What about them?"

"Who?" Jimmy asked, both startled and suspicious.

"Them!"

Jimmy looked down the street in the direction in which Cindy was pointing and saw nothing at first. Then a slight movement in the sky caught his attention and he looked more closely. At first he thought some trick of his vision of his flight path had made a couple birght stars seem to move, but as he watched there could be no mistake. The lights were moving, and a quick computation of the estimated distance using parallax told him that they were moving very fast. "Are those…?" he asked weakly.

"Jet fighters," Cindy finished, both angry and triumphant. "They were called in to take out Poultra but they didn't know you were up here. Someone had to warn you before they fired their missiles."

"They did," Jimmy said, still watching the lights.

Cindy's mind skipped a track. "They did what? Warn you?"

"No," Jimmy replied. "Fire their missiles. Here they come!"

Cindy looked in the direction of the lights and saw that two smaller, glowing points had appeared and were slowly growing larger and brighter. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's get out of here!"

"Wait a minute," Jimmy told her. He was watching the approaching projectiles and looked worried. "There's something wrong."

"Of course there is," Cindy snorted. "That's why I came up here to warn you."

"That's not what I mean. The missiles aren't staying on course. I don't understand it. It's like they're malfunctioning or something."

Cindy watched as the missiles made crazy loops and swirls and shook her head, not believing the evidence of her own eyes. "How can that be? Those things are supposed to have ultra-sophisticated targeting systems. They should be able to hit anything, especially something as big as Poultra!"

Jimmy slapped his forehead. "Holy Heisenberg!" he cried. "That's it!"

Once again Jimmy had lost Cindy. "What's it?" she asked irritably.

"It's as big as Poultra…but it's _not_ Poultra. It's just something that the phobifier created from our perceptions. In some ways, it's not even real to the missiles, because the missiles can't think the way people do. There's no way for them to lock on to their target."

"How could the pilots launch a missile without having a target lock?"

Jimmy shook his head. "It depends on the missile and targeting system. Since no missile system was designed to take out a giant chicken, the pilots must used visual targeting only and assumed the missiles would get some kind of lock after they were launched. But they didn't. They're looking for something to hit."

"Well, there isn't anything. I guess you'll just have to finish what you were doing." Cindy looked at Poultra who was wandering aimlessly back down the street, apparently unnerved by her close call with the Purple Flurp. "That'll take care of Poultra."

"But it won't take care of the missiles." Jimmy looked more worried than ever. "It's only a matter of time before they hit something. And even if pilots try to abort and cause the missile to self-destruct, the explosion and debris could hurt someone."

"Maybe Goddard can take out the missiles with his lasers," Cindy suggested.

"Same problem." Jimmy came to a decision. "But there's one way to kill two birds with one stone."

Cindy shifted uneasily, not liking the way Jimmy had said that. "What are you saying?"

"The missiles need a target, so we're giving them one."

It took a few seconds for the meaning to sink into Cindy's head. When it did she almost couldn't speak. "Now, wait a minute…"

Jimmy ignored her. "Goddard! Move in closer to those missiles and fire up the afterburners. We're going in fast and hot!"

The flames from Goddard's propulsion system changed from bright yellow to blue-white as the system afterburners kicked in. Jimmy, Cindy, and Goddard surged towards the erratically weaving missiles as the added thrust brought their airspeed to just under 400 miles per hour.

"You're insane, Neutron!" Cindy yelled in fright.

"You wanted to be up here!" Jimmy shouted back. He swung the Flycycle into tight loop to bring them near the missiles. A quick look back showed that the missiles erratic behavior had not changed, and that they were coming dangerously close to some of the buildings. Grunting Jimmy wheeled back around. "We have to get in closer. Hang on!"

Cindy gritted her teeth and tightened her hold on Jimmy as the Flycycle swooped back around towards the deadly projectiles. This time, rather than perform a fly-by, Jimmy dove directly towards one of the missiles. _He can't be serious!_ Cindy thought wildly. _He's going to try to ram one of them?_ She watched with growing apprehension as they neared the lethal weapon, until, at the last minute, Jimmy pulled up and spiraled away.

"Did we get its attention?" Jimmy yelled.

Cindy looked behind them and saw first one missile, then the other, change course and veer towards them. "Yes!" she cried excitedly. "You did it! Wait a minute." The realization of what this meant struck her. "That's not a good thing, is it?"

Jimmy didn't answer. He leaned forward as though trying to coax more speed out of the Flycycle as they rocketed towards Poultra. Cindy had nearly forgotten the giant monster in her excitement and alternated frantic looks between the creature and the pursuing missiles. The missiles, she noted with alarm, were closing rapidly.

"Those missiles are coming in fast," she said in alarm. "Can't you outrun them?"

Jimmy shook his head. "The Strato could," he said, "but not the Flycycle. But the Flycycle has something the Strato doesn't."

Cindy couldn't take her eyes off the missiles as they continued to close in. One hundred yards…seventy-five… "What's that?" she asked. Fifty yards…

Her stomach lurched violently as the Flycycle suddenly shot straight up into the air. "A great turning radius!" Jimmy answered through clenched teeth. Below them Cindy could see the missiles attempt to follow their path and fail as their momentum carried them directly into Poultra. There was a brilliant flash as twin balls of flame erupted below them and spread outward, and Cindy held her breath as billows of fire crawled upwards in pursuit towards them. As the Flycycle outdistanced the flames Cindy decided that they had escaped inferno below them and heaved a sigh of relief.

While the Flycycle was fast enough to escape the fireballs, however, it could not hope to escape the unseen shockwave that raced towards them at the speed of sound. Jimmy, Cindy, and Goddard were hit by the invisible blast of super-compressed air as though struck by a tornado. Goddard's stabilizers were the best that Jimmy's ingenuity and allowance could devise, but the concussion of the missiles had been designed to disrupt machines costing millions of dollars and the Flycycle spun wildly, tossing Jimmy and Cindy in different directions. Stunned and helpless, the three of them began the long fall into the shadows below.

It was Goddard who recovered first. Resuming his normal form he activated his helicopter mode and descended rapidly towards Jimmy who was stirring feebly. Cindy, also in shock, became groggily aware of her surroundings. It seemed to her as though she were watching an old motion picture, with everything moving far too slowly. To her right she could see Goddard drifting downwards while below her and far to her left she could see Jimmy's faint silhouette. As from a great distance she could hear a voice faintly calling up to her, like a recording played at the wrong speed. No, not to her, she realized dimly. To Goddard.

"G-e-e-et C-i-i-in-d-y-y-y!" the voice called.

Obediently Goddard moved to obey, seizing the back of Cindy's collar in his mouth and slowing her fall. As she continued to watch, Jimmy continued his own unimpeded free-fall and rapidly disappeared from view into the shadows below.

That succeeded in snapping Cindy out of her shock. "Neutron!" she shouted. There was no answer. But that was because he was out of range, she told herself. That's all. "Goddard!" she instructed, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. "Get us down. Now." Goddard sped his rate of descent while Cindy peered frantically into the gloom below with her mind racing.

As she and Goddard dropped towards where Jimmy had fallen Cindy finally spotted something. At first it was nothing more than an indistinct blob in the dark canyon between the row of buildings, but as they moved closer Cindy could see that it was the unmistakable form of a person. With unwelcome certainty she realized that it was Jimmy, lying where he had fallen. As she drew nearer he appeared to fade and she thought at first that the moon had gone behind a cloud. Then she realized that her eyes were tearing. She brushed here hand across her eyes to wipe the moisture from them as she and Goddard alit on the ground.

She took a step towards Jimmy and was startled as the ground beneath her seemed to give beneath her feet. She looked closer at where she was standing. _No_, she thought suddenly. _Not on the ground. On a…net?_ As she was puzzling over this Jimmy stirred and moaned softly. "Neutron?" she asked in disbelief.

Jimmy struggled to a sitting position. "I ache all over," he complained. "What happened?"

"I don't know," she admitted as she knelt down next to him. "I guess you fell into this net. But where did it come from?"

"Hey, there," a voice called out. Startled, Cindy and Jimmy looked up so see a dark and hefty silhouette squatting on the ledge of a building above them. "Mind if I get a lift down?"

"Sam?" Cindy asked.

"That's me, yeah," Sam answered. "Funny thing. When you mentioned a fly hitting a windshield, I figured, why not a fly hitting a web? I mean, Spider-Sam thought that. So he whipped up a web all along this street in case you missed. I guess it came in handy after all." There was a familiar chuckle. "It was a good thing he did it when he did, too. Right after Poultra disappeared Spider-Sam vanished as well and left me stranded on this ledge, yeah. So, are you kids okay?"

Jimmy tenderly felt his limbs and joints. "I guess so," he called back. He looked at Cindy in the dimness, unable to read her face or her thoughts. "So, I thought you never wanted to see me again."

Cindy felt a twinge of irritation and old anger at the reminder and stood up. "I didn't," she answered, as she marched towards the edge of the webbing. "Not even as street pizza."

End of Chapter 15

Author's Notes:

No, this is not the end. There are the usual loose ends to wrap up and hopefully the customary epilog next time will do that.

This should have been uploaded a day or so ago but if it's not one thing its another. The wireless network connection keeps going in and out on me and there's not pattern to it. I just have to shoot for a window and hope things work out.

Page 5 of 5


	16. Epilog Sunday Sundae

All We Have To Fear

by Gary D. Snyder

Epilog:

The following afternoon Carl, Sheen, and Libby were in a booth at the Candy Bar discussing the events of the previous evening while awaiting their orders.

"So once again, things worked out for the best," said Sheen with satisfaction.

"How do you figure that?" Libby asked.

Sheen began ticking off his fingers. "One, none of monsters is still around. Two, all the damage disappeared once they disappeared."

"Except for the burn marks from those missiles," pointed out Carl.

Sheen rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever. All the damage the monsters did disappeared. General Anaconda –"

"Abercrombie," corrected Libby.

Sheen glared at the others. "Hey, who's telling this, you two or me?" When neither answered him Sheen continued. "General _Abercrombie_ said the military would pay for the missile damage if no one ever told his superiors that it happened during a fight with a giant chicken and that he nearly got Jimmy and Cindy blown up. And three, everyone was so excited about getting to kick their worst fear's butt that we actually raised the money we needed for the field trip next week."

"That _was_ pretty cool," Libby admitted. "Everyone got to be the hero they always wished they could be."

Carl looked unhappy. "I didn't."

"No," Sheen said. "But Sam was so happy about his adventure that he added the Amazing Cider-Sam as a new flavor and it's half-off this week."  
"I suppose that's better than nothing," Carl sighed. "But it would have been nice if I could have been Llama Boy like I always wanted to be."

"Maybe next nightmare, Carl," Libby soothed. "As it is there's still a lot of fallout from this last one."

Sheen looked puzzled and counted off on his fingers once again before giving Libby a questioning look. "Haven't you been listening to me? How do you figure?"

Libby nodded towards the soda counter where Cindy was sitting alone, and then towards a table at the other side of the Candy Bar where Jimmy was glumly nursing a milkshake. Neither had said anything to anyone but each was pointedly ignoring the other. Sheen glanced at Jimmy and Cindy and sighed.

"Oh, right," he said, as Sam delivered their orders. "The brain and the pain." He shook his head in frustration. "Why is it always about them? It's like some cruel storyline that keeps pushing them together than then dragging them apart again. What kind of second-rate hack would keep writing those kind of stories?"

Libby waited patiently for Sheen to finish his tirade. "Are you through?"

"Yeah, I'm through," he answered in resignation and headed towards Jimmy. "I'll take the brain."

"And I'll take the pain," Libby said, walking towards Cindy. "I mean, Cindy."

Carl looked from one to the other and then picked up his spoon with a shrug. "And I'll take the ice cream before it all melts."

Sheen slid into a chair across from Jimmy. For a few moments he said nothing, as he considered the best way to open a conversation. Finally, he said simply, "Women."

"Tell me about it," Jimmy said sourly. "What do they want from us anyway?" Before Sheen could answer he continued, "I mean, maybe it wasn't the most PC thing to do, but I didn't have any choice. Can't she understand that?" He slumped miserably down in his seat. "She's not the only one who went through it. I was there too, you know."

"Yes…you were," offered Sheen, who had no better response handy.

"So let her be mad at me. Let her not talk to me ever again. Let her think I'm a jerk." Jimmy swirled the straw in his shake. "Retroville is safe. That's what matters, right?"

"Umm…right." Sheen was silent for a few seconds before adding, "About Cindy being mad at your being a jerk and all –"

Jimmy looked up, startled. "Who told you that?" he demanded. "Cindy? Libby?"

Sheen looked uncomfortable. "Actually, you did, just now."

"Oh." Jimmy looked down. "Right."

"Well, anyhow," Sheen went on, "about you being a jerk and Cindy being mad at you. Was this before or after she risked her life to warn you?"

"Before. I mean after. I mean…"

Sheen waited patiently. "Yes?"

Jimmy considered it, looking troubled. She had told him she never wanted to see him ever again, but had taken a terrible risk to warn him about the missiles anyway. True, the missiles hadn't been an immediate threat after all, but Cindy hadn't known that at the time. "I don't get it," he thought out loud. "If she really was mad at me, why did she try to warn me? And if she wasn't mad, why is she acting so mad now? It doesn't make any sense."

"Hello!" Sheen said. "We're talking girls here. If they did make sense to us they'd be boys and what would be the sense of that?"

"So is she mad or isn't she?"

"Oh, she's mad. But that's what girls do. It's one of their forms of communication. It's strange but sometimes they only way they can relate to things they really care about is emotionally. And by ignoring her like this all you're really telling her is that you don't care that she cares."

Jimmy couldn't believe that what Sheen had been saying actually made sense of sorts to him and that this was coming out of Sheen in the first place. "Where did you learn all that?" he asked.

Sheen looked somewhat embarrassed. "Well, actually, it's from Episode 137 of Ultra Lord," he confessed. "It was about this planet called Nacluv that was totally devoid of all logic and reason – totally female of course – and Ultra Lord had to battle Robofiend's battle-drones who were trying to…"

The rest of Sheen's narration was lost to Jimmy as he pondered on the events of the previous day. Cindy really had come through when it mattered and if nothing else that had to mean something. He motioned Sam over as Sheen reached the climax of his story.

"…and then Ultra Lord used his photon power glove, available in fine toy stores everywhere, to create feedback in the Master Control Drone's synchronization signal that caused all the other battle-drones to spontaneously self-destruct, leaving the adoring inhabitants of Nacluv to form an Ultra Lord Fan Club." Sheen sighed happily at the memory. "It was cool!"

Libby, in the meantime, had taken a seat next to Cindy at the bar. "Hey there, girlfriend."

Cindy didn't even look up. "Hey, Libby."

"What's up?"

Cindy shook her head. "I already told you last night. Do we have to go over that again?"  
"No, probably not." She paused and then said, "But I've been thinking about it and maybe you should cut Jimmy a little slack on this one."

"What?" Cindy's voice sounded both surprised and irritated.

"Well, you said that Jimmy made you think about that whole scene on the bridge to keep your mind off anything that machine of his might use, right?" Cindy nodded and Libby continued. "But I was wondering. What kept Jimmy's mind occupied?"

Cindy shrugged. "I don't know. Finding some way to fool me, I guess."

"Think harder," Libby said dryly. When Cindy remained silent she said, "My guess is that the only way it could all seem so real to you is because it was what he was thinking too."

"Oh, please," Cindy objected.

"Really. This sounded an awful lot like the first time your minds got mixed together in that brain pod thing. Both of you argued about who was thinking it, but I think that it was a shared experience. I don't think he was stealing private thoughts as much as reliving them."

Cindy's words were almost a grunt. "What's your point?"

"The point," Libby explained patiently, "is that Jimmy wasn't playing you. It was just as real to him as it was to you. More importantly, I think that it meant just as much to him as it did to you. The situation wasn't real, but you can't tell me that the feelings weren't. Sure, the timing was rotten. But you've got to remember that the whole town was in danger -"

"- and Jimmy always has to save the day," Cindy concluded bitterly, refusing to drop her shell, "no matter what the cost."

Libby was momentarily silent. "Yes," she agreed. "Like when he told Goddard to save you instead of him."

The shell cracked. Cindy had not forgotten about Goddard saving her, but she had become so accustomed to Jimmy taking responsibility for everyone else that his putting her safety ahead of his own had seemed only natural. Libby's words put things in a new light. As much as circumstances may have demanded it her experiences on the road and bridge had seemed to her just a cruel deception at her expense. Jimmy had been acting in the best interests of everyone else, but it suddenly struck her that she was one of those people for whom he had acted. Neutralizing the phobifier had been for her as much as had his act of selflessness at the end.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Sam, who placed a large sundae in front of her. She stared at it and then at Sam before shaking her head. "I didn't order anything."

"No," Sam agreed. "But I was asked to bring it at the request of one who wished to remain anonymous."

"Looks like Canadian Mousse – one of your favorites," Libby observed. "That reminds me. My own ice cream is -" She broke off and ran towards her table, yelling, "Hey! Carl! What do you think you're doing? Don't you even be thinking what I think you are!"

Still puzzled by the gift, Cindy picked up her spoon, dislodging a small piece of folded paper from the saucer as she did so. She set the spoon down and unfolded the note to read the single word written upon it before laying the message aside on the counter. _Some other time, Neutron_, she thought with a smile as she swallowed a mouthful of the gooey confection before her. _Right now my ice cream is melting._

Sam noticed the paper and shook his head in confusion at the message. "'Guacamole'?" he muttered, wiping down the bar. "I will never understand these kids' lingo nowadays."

THE END

Author's Notes:

There has been much confusion as to what "Guacamole" on Jimmy's note meant. There were actually a couple references to the term in the story, albeit somewhat subtle. The first is where Sheen noted that Cindy would get mad at Jimmy andthreaten to pound him into guacaomole, and that they wouldthengo back tohating each other. The second is where Cindy, angered by what Jimmy had done, threatened to pound him to a "pulp", whereupon Jimmy corrected her by saying "Don't you mean 'guacamole'?"Whenworking out how Jimmy and Cindy would reconcile I figured that the burdenof doing sowas clearly on Jimmy's end. Ididn't think that itwouldbe in hisnature to write a mushy note when the sundae was obviously a peace offering, or even to write a very explicit appology that just anyone could recognize. The closest I could see him doing would besendingCindy someprivate messagethatshe wouldrecognize as both an acknowledgement of her anger at himand a request thatshe do what she had to to putit all behind them (including pounding him into guacamole for what he'd done) and move on. Cindy caught it, as indicated by her somewhat amused "Some other time, Neutron", but as Jimmy intended it went completely over the head of Sam and whoever else might read it. Unfortunately it went over a lot of reader's heads as well.

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